


First Aid Kits and Deep Secrets

by Littlemapleleaf



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Angst, Brooding, Cultural Differences, Ensemble Cast, F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, If You Came Here For Scientific Accuracy I Am So Sorry, Possible Additional Pairings, Sci-Fi, Secrets, Slow Burn, Sporadic Updates, The Author Tries and Fails to Make Sense of Inkling Biology, Unrealistic Medical Practices, headcanons, questionable life choices
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:31:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 79,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4692170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlemapleleaf/pseuds/Littlemapleleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“...go ahead,” the Octoling spat, “Kill me.” It’s speech was slurred, and it sent a chill down Agent 3’s spine. “I’m dead anyway.”</p><p>In which Agent 3 has to deal with the aftermath of defeating DJ Octavio, a possible oncoming invasion, and her quickly depleting wallet, all while taking care of an injured Octoling who might want to kill her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Agent 3 makes a Questionable Decision

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so a while ago this crazy idea popped into my head and I just had to write it. Out of that, this thing was born, and somehow I managed to start shipping my characters. Whoops. I hope I actually manage to finish this one without deleting it.

Something Agent 3 had learned quickly after becoming an Agent, was that her work was never done. Sure, DJ Octavio had been defeated, and all of the zapfish had been reaquired, and all of the Great Octoweapons had been shut down, but that didn’t change the fact that the Octarians were still out there, and they had yet to give up.

Which meant that Agent 3 had to keep going on missions, because she really, really did not like the idea of Octarians coming anywhere near Inkopolis. Naturally, they seemed to love that idea. This difference in opinion had led to her current mission, which happened to be stealing a newly stolen zapfish back from the Octarians. Their security had gone up recently (most likely due to the recent defeat), and the zapfish was on guard, the only viable entrance to it being protected by a row of three snipers, which took up the entire space. She would have to defeat them to get through, which would be easy normally. She could send out a seeker, or swim up to them and splat them.

But not today, no, the Octarians had decided to make her life difficult. Sitting innocently on the ground in front of her were rows and rows of twisted metal points, with small gaps in them to jump between. Agent 3 couldn’t figure out how to get herself past them without alerting the snipers to her presence. Not for the first time today, she wished for a bubbler so she could just walk over them fine.

But nooooo, life just had to be difficult.

She ended up throwing splat bombs at the snipers to distract them before jumping over the spikes to one of the few gaps in between, grinning to herself. Using their confusion to her advantage, she jumped in the air, firing at them, taking one out before her landing and splatting the other two as fast as she could. The zapfish was right in front of her. She just had to break it out-

Ink hit her back. Agent 3 immediately retreated into her own ink to heal, turning around to face her attacker. Standing in front of her on turf newly inked in their color were three Octolings, their faces obscured by the lifeless face masks they wore. The one in the center had kelp in her black tentacles. Agent 3 made a mental note to take out that one first, and jumped into action, firing round after round of ink at her enemy. She had made it all the way to the zapfish, damn it, and there was no way she was giving it up now!

The first to be splatted was not the leader, but one of the two lower ranked Octolings. Agent 3 growled, trying to ignore the panic growing in her chest as the Octolings advanced on her, pushing her up against where the zapfish was held. They were so close, she could almost hit them. And so she did, slamming her gun into the face of the more powerful Octoling and using its surprise to splat it easily.

There was one left now, and Agent 3 was regaining ground. She hit the Octoling directly with her ink, not allowing it to escape. It was panicking now, she could tell by its sporadic movements. The thing was out of turf, and it wouldn’t escape. She fired another round at it hitting it directly in the face.

And then the most bizarre thing happened. It was something Agent 3 had never seen before, and would probably never see again. As it recoiling from her blow, it lost it’s footing on her ink, and promptly fell backwards with a wet crunching sound accompanying its landing on the ground. Agent 3 didn’t move for a full second. The Octoling, she noticed, wasn’t moving either. She found herself inching forwards to investigate.

At first Agent 3 thought it was ink, the liquid bubbling over the Octoling’s chest and stomach. It took her a moment to note it’s blue coloring, how different it’s consistency was from ink, and how its source was the metal spikes that had shoved themselves straight through the Octoling’s body as it had been impaled. It was blood. Agent 3 felt her face go white. She dropped her gun, falling to her knees to check the Octoling’s pulse. It would make sense for it to have one, right? They had similar biology. They could do the same things so their blood would work the same, right?

She relaxed when she felt the beating of the Octoling’s heart. It was faint, but still there. Breathing a sigh of relief, she went to splat it, to send it back, when she realized that there was no guarantee it’s wounds wouldn’t reform, or that it wouldn’t even form correctly because of how damaged it was. Most likely, it would _die_. Something told her the Octoling knew this too. It hadn’t flinched when she had grabbed her gun, and it didn’t appear scared now. It just stared up at her through its blank mask.

Maybe if she left it, the Octarians would find it and take care of it. Either way, there was no way she would kill it. Agent 3 stood up, turning to leave, when she heard the Octoling give a wet cough.

“...go ahead,” the Octoling spat, “Kill me.” It’s speech was slurred, and it sent a chill down Agent 3’s spine. “I’m dead anyway.”

Agent 3 stared at it, eyes wide. She tightened her grip on the gun, and lifted it, preparing to fire. The Octoling tensed, but made no effort to leave. Staring at the Octoling, Agent 3 aimed her gun, and fired-

-right at the barrier around the zapfish. She shielded the Octoling with her body, making sure none of her ink landed on it. Then, she knelt back down, fastening her gun at her side. Agent 3 took a deep breath, trying to calm her trembling hands as she wondered if this was a good idea or not, and placed an arm under the Octoling’s legs. She placed another under its shoulder, and using body strength that had developed through years of wielding roller brushes in turf wars, lifted it up and off of the spikes, ignoring how it flinched as she did so. She knew it needed medical attention, and she would have to be the one to give it to him. Agents 1 and 2 and Captain Cuttlefish could never know. Agent 3 wasn’t sure of how they would react. Heck, she wasn’t sure of how she was reacting herself. All she knew was that the Octoling would die without her, and there was no way she would ever let that happen.

She grabbed the zapfish just in time, barely making it before the barrier reformed, and then made her way to the nearest kettle. It would be a bit harder to get them both home, and she had to go fast, but she was sure she could make it.

She had to.

It had seemed impossible to get home, but when she let the kettle, she noted that it was night time. Sneaking past a sleeping Captain Cuttlefish was easy, and Inkopolis was all but deserted. Agent 3 made record time getting home to her rather small apartment and immediately went to her bedroom, placing the Octoling down on her bed. It groaned in pain.

It was still losing blood, and fast. Agent 3 grabbed the first aid kit from under her bed and threw it open. She rummaged inside of it with great haste until she found what she was looking for, a roll of gauze, disinfectant, and a shit ton of wipes. Silently thanking herself for taking those first aid classes before she had left to live on her own, Agent 3 dutifully cleaned the blood from the wounds. She would probably have to stitch them back up too, and then hope for the best. She didn’t have any thread, but she did have floss.

The floss would have to do. Agent 3 lit a match and then held the needle over it to clean it before threading it with the floss and getting to work.

“This is going to hurt a little,” she told it, and began threading. It didn’t even flinch when she pierced its skin, slowly knitting it back together, threading the floss back and forth, back and forth. “I’m going to flip you over now,” she told it a little later, once she had finished, and went to work on the back. The Octoling lay there again while Agent 3 wrapped the gauze over the wounds. “I’ve finished now.” she told it, and then stood there.

What was she supposed to do now? Silence permeated the room.

“Uh,” she said, and pointed to her desk, “I’m gonna go sit over there and uh... just... holler if you need me...?” This wasn’t going to end well at all, she just knew it.


	2. In Which a New Character is Introduced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Agent 3 deals with a grocery run, a minor crisis, and someone new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is! Chapter 2. In all honestly I'm nervous about how much you guys will like it. The plot is finally beginning now! I have so many plans.

Agent 3 woke up the next morning feeling rather pained from falling asleep on the keyboard of her laptop. She glanced over at the Octoling, who appeared to be awake (Agent 3 couldn’t really tell with the goggles covering its eyes), sitting in her bed, back straight as a rod. Somehow, she was still alive despite the Octoling’s general existence in her room. She had sort of been expecting it to attempt to murder her or something.

Agent 3 stood up slowly and pushed her chair in, so as not to startle it if it was awake. She then turned to it, knowing she needed to change its bandages and check its wounds.

“I need to look at your injuries.” She told it as much, and began making her way towards it, a tentative hand out, reaching for the wrappings. The Octoling tensed, leaning back slightly, but did not move from its spot. It seemed to stare at Agent 3’s head as she uncovered the wounds, poking at them and checking for infection, before rewrapping them with more gauze bandages. “That’s all I needed to do,” she said, glancing away and slowly stepping back.

She would have to check again before bed. Unfortunately, there was a distinct lack of bandages in her first aid kit. Somehow they had all been used up and Agent 3 would have to get more. Not only that, she needed to check in with Captain Cuttlefish now that she had completed her mission. She also remembered that she had yet to eat breakfast, and the Octoling probably needed food as well.

“I’m going to get us food. Hang in there.” she told it, despite knowing that it probably wouldn’t respond to her. She was right. Agent 3 went to the door to her bedroom and exited it, entering the rest of her apartment.

Her apartment, by comparison to the rest of the apartments she had seen in Inkopolis during the time she was house hunting, was less than pretty. The carpet was stained, the peeling walls an ugly green color. The faucets were leaky, and no matter how much she tried she couldn’t get hot water. Agent 3’s kitchen was okay, with all of the bare necessities needed for a kitchen, stove, oven, refrigerator, the works. Her table was small and cheap, with two chairs on either side of it (not that she ever used them), and to its left, up against the wall, she had a sofa with a small box for a TV in front of it. Her closet was behind that. It was just barely large enough to hold her all of her weapons.

Agent 3 made a beeline for her refrigerator, opened the door, and groaned. Of course it would be completely empty. When had she last bought groceries, again? It had been a while.

She had gotten used to living on protein bars mid-battle with Octarians, and now it was biting her in the ass. This was just her luck. A quick trip to the store wouldn’t hurt, would it? She could buy bandages while she was out. Besides, what could the Octoling possibly do? It could barely move, anyway.

Shouldering her backpack, Agent 3 made her way out the door, squinting at the harsh sunlight.

* * *

Everything hurt. The Octoling felt pain, pain all over her body. She was useless like this, worthless, unable to do anything, and in enemy territory. Why had she not been killed yet. Why had she not been tortured for information? Why was she even here? It made no sense, no sense at all. Why take her and just... not use her?

All she knew was that she had to get out, to leave and escape before the Inkling could get her information. She had to leave for the Octarians, so they could win. She had to, she had to, there was no other option. The Octoling pushed herself up with her hands, ignoring how they shook from her weight and how her wounds ached with every movement. She turned so her legs were hanging from the bed (soft, comfortable. Why comfortable? She was the enemy.) and pushed herself off.

* * *

It was a well known fact that Agent 3’s real name wasn’t actually Agent 3. This was partly due to the fact it was not well known that Agent 3 was Agent 3 in the first place. Most Inklings did not know about the old man living on the other side of a grate in the middle of Inkopolis, and if they did, it wasn’t likely they would talk with him. What was a sort of well known fact, and only sort of, considering that nobody really knew Agent 3, was that Agent 3’s real name was May. She didn’t mind that not many people knew her. May wasn’t exactly the most social person lately. She hadn’t been since she had moved to Inkopolis.

She was too busy to eat, and too busy to have friends. Of course there was the Captain and Agents 1 and 2, but it wasn’t as though they were close enough to confide in each other. Nope, May was basically alone.

The store was just a little away from Booyah Base, on the other side of the train tracks. May walked past them on the way. It was the closest place to her apartment selling food (among other things) and cheap enough that she could actually afford it. She often wondered how it stayed in business, seeing as it was in the most expensive part of town. May suspected it was due to the lower quality of its products.

May entered the store with the Octoling in mind, wondering just what it might want to eat. Fish? Dried Seaweed? Inklings? Hopefully not that last one, she rather liked being alive.

Finally, May settled on just the necessities, filling her basket with enough food for the next week and two more rolls of gauze bandages. She took it to the front, where a bored looking Inkling scanned them and droned out the price. May glanced into her wallet and sighed, dumping the last of her savings out on the counter. It was barely enough.

She’d have to do some turf wars, later, if she wanted to keep her apartment’s food supply stocked for the Octoling. Joy.

Figuring she should put the groceries away before checking in with Captain Cuttlefish, May made her way back to her apartment. It was as quiet as it always was. She sighed, filling her refrigerator with her new purchases before making her way to her room, gauze bandages in hand. She opened the door, expecting to see the Octoling in some position on her bed, and froze.

Where the heck was the Octoling?

May’s mind went into red alert. She had brought it to her home, had let it into Inkopolis, and now it was gone, with possibly a ton of information for the Octarians. They would lose and it would all be her fault, she would have ruined everything _again_ and nobody would ever forgive her and-

Breath. She needed to breath. The Octoling was severely injured. It couldn’t have gone far. It couldn’t even walk, as far as she knew. She checked her bathroom first, but it was empty and the window shut. The rest of her house had been, too. Finally, she circled around her bed, and of course, there the Octoling was, collapsed on her floor. May breathed a sigh of relief, feeling rather silly for having panicked.

The Octoling was curled up on itself, tensed at her presence and clearly awake, hands clutching its wounds. The wrapping over them was coming undone. Thank goodness May had bought more bandages. She placed them on the bed and fell to her knees, bringing her hands under the Octoling once more. Its flinch when her hands came near didn’t escape her attention, and for once May found herself wondering how it must feel here. It was probably really scared, and its wounds weren’t helping. Well, she could at least take care of that much.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” May said as softly as she could, so as not to frighten it anymore, “I’m going to put you back on the bed so I can redress your wounds.” The Octoling was very light, she noted, wondering how much it even ate back in Octo-ville or whatever it called its home. Or was it supposed to be this light?

It groaned when May placed it back on the bed, a small, unnoticible thing, and then said and did nothing for the entirety of the time while May rewrapped everything. By this point it was about lunchtime, and May knew that she was starving. She went back to her kitchen, leaving her bedroom door open, and cut a few pieces of fish for each of them.

She placed a plate of it in front of the Octoling’s face, watching as its head perked up slightly at the scent of food, and went to eat her own, scarfing it down quickly. Not everyone in this apartment got to sit in bed all day. May had a certain Captain she had to report to.

She pulled on her gear, heading out towards Inkopolis and the grate she’d be heading through. Octo Valley was as desolate and as cold as always. There was a bit of wind blowing in it today, enough to make her shudder a bit. Captain Cuttlefish stood where he always did, although today was a little different. His back was to the outside, and he was connecting papers on the large board that always stood behind him. Agents 1 and 2 were there as well, and up close it was very easy to see that they were Callie and Marie in the flesh. She wondered why they were there. Usually it was just Captain Cuttlefish, but today didn’t seem to be the case.

He was muttering to himself, glancing back and forth between papers. As she noted Agents 1 and 2 doing the same, May slipped into the mentality of Agent 3, and made her way over, sliding in easily with them.

“So what’s happening today?” she asked, intrigued.

“We might be onto something,” said Agent 2, explaining for Agent 3’s benefit, “the zapfish you retrieved yesterday was from near Walleye Warehouse, in the industrial district. In fact, a vast majority of them were.”

“So the Octarians have an entrance into Inkopolis from there?” Agent 3 blanched inside. If they had an entrance into the industrial district, somewhere pretty far away from Octo Valley, who knew where else they had entrances to Inkopolis? She would have to keep a sharp eye out for them.

“We think so. And now that we’ve crippled their energy sources for the time being, they’ll probably get a lot more active and steal more zapfish, and then we can narrow down their location until we find it.”

“I still think,” Agent 1 said, “that we should sweep the industrial district for it.”

“That would take days, and time we don’t have.”

“We could wait a bit longer, narrow it down some more and then look.”

“Captain Cuttlefish?” Agent 3 said, because a third opinion would be good, “what do you think?” All three turned to him.

“I think,” he mumbled, “I think that we need a fourth agent.”

Well that was sort of random.

“We should get a fourth agent,” he said, a little louder, “someone to help out with zapfish retrieval. If we had another guy out there grabbing them, we could force the Octarians to steal more and reveal their location.”

“Okay, but where are we going to get this fourth guy?” Asked Agent 2, as always the voice of reason.

“Oh, I already found him.”

What.

“You already found a fourth agent and you didn’t even tell us?” Agent 1 said.

“Just met him this morning,” said Captain Cuttlefish, “I wasn’t really sure then, so I invited him to come over for a trial period today. Now though, I think we need him. Seems good enough...”

“When is he coming?” Agent 2 asked.

“Should be right about now.”

All four looked towards the grate that led back to Inkopolis. As if on cue, it bubbled up with ink and out popped an Inkling. He landed nicely on the grate, and Agent 3 was able to get a good look at him. His tentacles at the moment were green, matching those of Agent 3, and the rest of the Ink in Octo Valley. He was rather tall, with a smile on his face and warm eyes..

“Hello?” he asked, “Captain Cuttlefish? I’m here for my trial period.”

“It’s not a trial period anymore.” Captain Cuttlefish said, “I’ve decided you’re going to be Agent 4, because we really need another agent and I don’t have time for a trial period any longer. Agent 3?”

“Yes?” Agent 3 straightened, quick to answer.

“Agent 4 here is going to need his gear. And could you lead him around on his first mission, show him how everything works?”

“Of course. Follow me,” she turned to him, and didn’t miss the slowly growing joy on his face. Well someone was clearly excited. Agent 3 handed Agent 4 the heavy coat that matched hers, a hand-me-down from Agents 1 and 2, just like her own. It was a little snug on him, but still work. The shoes with their weird glowing bits came next, and the communicators that snapped in over their ears, came afterwords. Agent 3 explained the radios to Agent 4. Then she turned to Captain Cuttlefish.

“So which kettle is it today?”

“Number 22.” He told her, before going back to arguing with Agents 1 and 2 on what to do next. He seemed a bit preoccupied today, less cheerful. Agent 3 turned to Agent 4, ready to take him to kettle 22, only to notice the look of awe on his face.

He had finally noticed Callie and Marie, it appeared.

“Is- is that- is that the Squid Sisters?”

Agent 3 nodded, “It’s a secret. Don't tell anyone. In fact, this entire place is a secret.”

Agent 4 nodded, then turned to the giant sphere where DJ Octavio was brooding, “And is that- is that an Octarian?”

DJ Octavio turned to look at the two, giving Agent 4 a scrutinizing glare. “He was one of their leaders. We defeated him.” Agent 3 said.

“That’s cool. So you guys are actually doing something.”

“You thought we weren’t?”

“I dunno. You’re like, what, 4 guys? Your base of operations is a shack. I was a worried you guys wouldn’t stand a chance against the entirety of the Octarians.”

“Then why’d you even come here?” Asked Agent 3 as she led him to Kettle 22.

“I wanted to help out, you know? My grandpa died fighting the great turf war, and he was a real hero. I want to make sure that death doesn’t go to waste, I guess. What about you? Why are you fighting the Octarians?”

It was a sort of hard question to answer. At first, Agent 3 had only gone for battle experience, because there was one real way to get money in Inkopolis, and it wasn’t a part time job at the supermarket. Agent 3 had desperately needed cash, and she was way out of her league. She needed to train in order to win turf wars, and Captain Cuttlefish had seemed like the perfect way to do that.

Of course, then she had gotten invested in it. It was turning out to be more serious than she originally thought it would be.

“I’d rather not see Inkopolis turn into Octopolis, she told him instead, because he seemed to be the sort of guy to go with that, “We’re here.” The kettle was in front of them. Hopefully this mission would go quickly, something easy for Agent 4 to get into everything, and easy for her to get back and make sure the Octoling hadn’t murdered her neighbors.

The Ink bubbled around the two as they turned into squid form, and off they went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like last time, reviews/critiques are always appreciated!  
> I've actually realized I never took the time to describe May/Agent 3, and I'm not sure when I should do that.


	3. In Which Agent 3 Is Shaken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here's chapter 3. I'm really excited to show you guys this because you're finally meeting learning about Agent 4! I hope you guys like it.

5 minutes into the mission, and they were already surrounded by Octarians. Agent 3 hid in the ink, Agent 4 just behind her, as several Octotroopers, their fronts guards by visors, slid by. The moment they were turned away, Agent 3 popped out of the ink and fired, Agent 4 came out right after her, mirroring her actions. Their ink, a bright green, filled the area as the Octotroopers splatted. Agent 3 turned to Agent 4.

“Those are Shielded Octotroopers. I think the title is pretty self explanatory.”

“We sneak up behind them?”

“Or distract them. Come on.”

The two made their way forwards through the platform. On their radio, there was silence; no Agents or Captain today. The three were busy planning their next move.

Agent 3 and Agent 4 made it to the edge of the platform, looking down at the next platform below it, where there was nothing but Octarian ink. Agent 4 began to bend his knees, as though he were preparing to jump down, but Agent 3 raised an arm in front of him.

“Always make sure there’s nothing waiting in the ink before you jump down into the center of it.” she said, and threw a burst bomb. It landed in the ink, so that the Octarian ink just barely ringed around it. “Now we go,” she said, and the two jumped down.

Immediately, she could tell something was wrong. There was a sort of a hissing sound, one that reminded her vaguely of an Inkling, but with a lilt to it. Suddenly, five Octolings, three of which had kelp on their heads, popped from the ring. They were surrounded on all sides. It was the Octolings who fired first, almost immediately. Agent 3 pulled Agent 4 down and slipped into her squid form. He did the same, and the two tried to dodge the incoming ink. Agent 3 found herself cornered on all sides, so she did the one thing she could think of.

She jumped up, straight into view, and fired right at the nearest Octoling. It splatted right in her face, and she relished the feeling of landing in her own ink for a short second before turning to find the rest of the Octolings. They had scattered around, evading the ink Agent 4 (who appeared to have taken one out himself) sent at them. Agent 3 joined him, and the two made quick work of two of them. There was one left, the kelp on its black tentacles raised in the air. It jumped right up to Agent 3, ignoring Agent 4 completely, and grabbed her by the tentacles, pulling her forwards and down. Her feet slipped and suddenly the Agent three found herself falling forwards. She barely caught the grin on its face before her own face was smashing into the ground. The Octoling pushed the top of her head down. A second later, the pressure was released.

The Octoling was gone. Agent 4 stood in front of Agent 3, offering her a hand. She didn’t take it, opting instead to wipe the blood from her nose as she stood up alone.

“What were those?” Agent 4 asked.

“Octolings. We don’t know much about them, except that they can do everything we can.”

Agent 4 snorted, “I noticed.”

Agent 3 was suddenly reminded of the Octoling she had back at home. It seemed nothing like these ones in its current state (although, before, it had been rather tough to defeat). Now, though, it seemed far less aggressive, and far more defeated, for lack of a better word.

“...bush. Hey, are you listening to me?” Agent 4 snapped a finger in Agent 3’s face.

“Yes, I am,” she lied.

Agent 4 gave her a flat look. “Then what do you think?”

“I think that we should keep moving quickly, before the Octarians notice us here.”

Agent 4 squinted at her, “But don’t you think that was a little suspicious? The Octolings were just waiting there for us to jump down on the very edges of the ink. It was almost like an ambush.”

“We can think about that later. We have to get the zapfish.”

“Well, I think they know we’re here.”

“Whether they know or not, we have to go. Talk to Captain Cuttlefish about it, he’s the strategist, not me.”

Agent 3 grabbed his arm, pulling him along with her to the jump pad. The two jumped, Agent 3 going first. There was a second of rushing wind and then Agent 3 landed. Ink was being fired at her automatically. Agent 3 was starting to think Agent 4 had been right. Agent 3 cut through the Octarian ranks just as Agent 4 landed with a thump behind her. Slowly but surely, they made their way to the zapfish. It was harder than it had ever been before. She could see the zapfish in the distance, and yet the amount of Octarians had somehow tripled since the last time she had been there.

Had they really been so shaken by one Octoling going missing? Or was there something else going on? Agent 3 found her mind wandering as the fight went on. She was on autopilot, her body going through the motions she was used to, while her mind took a detour through the land of questions. It didn’t even register that they had made it to the zapfish until a very annoyed looking Agent 4 tapped her on the shoulder.

“We’re here. The zapfish is right there. What now?”

“Now,” she said, pointing her gun at it, “we destroy the shield. Like you’re playing Rainmaker.”

The shield shattered in an explosion of ink. Agent 3 let Agent 4 get the zapfish, and the two made their way to the exit. As she swam into it she couldn’t help but think about the Octoling in her apartment, and the one she had just fought, it’s grin still fresh in her mind.

* * *

_24 hours earlier._

_The Inkling had just left, and with it, had gone a very important piece of Octarian property. The Octoling frowned as she stared at the metal spikes on the ground. She knelt down, running her fingers through the blue liquid that remained on them. There was no question about it- that was Octoling blood._

_“Sir?” asked another Octoling, her tentacles normal instead of the Octoling’s black, with no kelp in them to mark her as Commander, “what should we do?”_

_"We see just what this Inkling is made of."_

* * *

The zapfish was handed to Captain Cuttlefish by Agent 4. Agent 3 leaned against the shack, her arms crossed, a frown on her face. She was still feeling unsettled by the Octoling from earlier. Why had it attacked her like that? Why hadn't it used its gun? It made no sense. It could have easily kept her and Agent 4 away long enough to throw a bomb.

So why hadn't it? What had it been doing?

Agent 3 shook her head. It didn't matter. She was probably just being paranoid.

Off in the distance, she could hear Agent 4 voicing his concerns to Captain Cuttlefish.

"I think they knew we were coming. Maybe they stole the zapfish just to lure us out or something," he was saying, waving his arms around.

"That makes sense," said Captain Cuttlefish, nodding his head, "Seems a bit silly to think they'd never notice us. I'll consider it. You go rest now. You've had a long first day."

"Thank you," he said. Agent 3 heard footsteps, and then Agent 4 was right beside her, "So," he said, "I reported to Captain Cuttlefish. Not bad for my first day, right?"

Agent 3 rolled her eyes, "Don't get cocky yet. You've still got a long way to go."

Agent 4 sighed. There was an awkward pause, and then he asked: "So uh, Agent 3. Do you wanna hang out or something? Watch a turf war maybe?"

There was a moment where Agent 3 desperately wanted to say yes, to for once, go have fun. Then she remembered the Octoling in her bedroom, the money she didn't have, the constant looming threat of war. She didn't have time for fun.

"No," she said, "I don't." Agent 3 turned to leave, but Agent 4 blocked her path.

"Do you have a problem with me or something?" he asked, the sides of his mouth curling into a scowl, "because you have been nothing but rude to me from the moment we met."

"You asked if I wanted to hang out. I said no. You blew up."

"You could have been a little more polite about it! I was so excited to be your friend today, but you've been awful."

"I don't care. Friends won't help us win. They aren’t going to do crap for us except distract us from the Octarians. I don’t want your friendship, and I certainly don’t need it."

Agent 4 was silent as Agent 3 pushed past him, stalking in a huff to the grate back to Inkopolis. She just barely caught his yell before she left.

"Well who'd want to be friends with somebody like you anyway!"

She already knew the answer to that question.

* * *

May arrived back home feeling rather depressed. She tossed her gear off and onto the floor, slipped into a pair of grey sweatpants with little multicolored splat designs in the fabric, and a ratty tank top, and flopped onto her sofa. She didn't move for nearly an hour before she remembered that, Oh yeah, there was an Octoling in her bedroom, and it was probably hungry again. Groaning, May sat up. There was still work to do, after all. Tomorrow she would need to play a few Turf Wars, but today she needed to take care of the Octoling.

She opened the door to her bedroom slowly, braced for anything. The Octoling had switched positions on her bed again, clutching her pillow as it stared up at the ceiling. Now of course, she would have to get the Octoling to let go of the pillow so she could change its bandages.

The thought occurred to her that she should probably learn how often she needed to change them. Twice a day seemed fine, but she wasn't actually sure.

She lay a hand on the pillow, "I need you to let go of this." May told the Octoling. She tugged at it a little, and was surprised when it let go immediately. Tossing it to the side, May checked the bandages. They were quite clean, cleaner than she had expected, but May still felt the need to clean the Octoling's injuries again and wrap them. She didn't want to have bought all of the bandages for nothing, after all.

The Octoling didn't protest, once again doing pretty much nothing at all. It was starting to concern May; how little it fought back to her, how little it seemed to move. May glanced over to the side of the bed. The plate of fish remained there. It had not been touched.

"You need to eat," she told it sternly as she handed it back her pillow. "I'm not going to starve you. Is there some other food you want?"

The Octoling said nothing. May sighed. She hadn't been expecting anything different. She knew it could talk, it had before, and she knew it could understand her.

It either refused to talk to her, or... or it was too scared to. Once again, May found herself wondering just how it felt.

It was so alone. She found that in a way, she could relate.


	4. In Which There Is A Timeskip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would be longer but it got so long I had to split it in half twice and I think this is better. I promise more will happen in the next few chapters.

If two weeks ago someone told May that she would be spending most of her time stressing about the best way to care for an injured Octoling, she would have laughed in their face. If someone were to say that to her now, she would probably have pushed them up against the closest wall, stuck a gun in their face, and ask how they found out.

Nearly a two weeks had past since May had found the Octoling. Her days since then were shakier than they had once been, characterized by Turf Wars May usually lost, long missions to find zapfish as Captain Cuttlefish tried to find the Octarian’s entry point into Inkopolis, and awkward stumbling around the Octoling. It seemed to have had gotten more comfortable in her bedroom, partly because its injuries were healing nicely and partly because it was probably getting used to sitting in there.

May had never tried to talk to it, nor it to her. She was probably doing a really bad job at the whole healing business. It was a good thing she wasn’t planning on being a doctor.

The Octoling had been occupying May’s bed for the past few weeks now. May was pretty sure her back pain from camping out on the sofa was permanent. It just added to her stress, which was a result of her bills being almost overdue, spending way too much time trying to avoid Agent 4, going on a few missions for Captain Cuttlefish, and losing turf wars.

Speaking of turf wars, at the moment May was feeling rather panicked. There were thirty seconds left in the turf war she was currently participating in, she was out of ink, alone, and in the middle of the opposing team's turf. A roller was coming right towards her, inking what she had already covered, and in the other direction was a suction bomb about to go off. There was nowhere to run.

The bomb exploded, and May went with it. As she reformed at the spawn point, the timer went off. The turf war was over. She was used to losing, but she had barely inked any turf, and barely made any money to go with it. Frustrated, she pocketed her winnings and stormed from Inkopolis tower in huff. Would she ever win? Her teammates were always so useless.

May had barely even made B rank, too. Even in ranked battles her winnings were somehow low. If she didn’t win a few matches soon, she’d get even further behind on her bills. May sighed, rubbing her temples. She could stress about that later. She had other problems to think about.

Problem number 1? May was out of food. Again.

The sun had begun to set over Inkopolis, setting it in a soft orange hue. May squinted into the light as she made her way to the store she always went to. There was barely enough in her pocket to pay for groceries, but she needed them desperately. She would normally have enough, but there was no way she was feeding the horrible but cheap energy drinks she usually bought to the Octoling. The taste was so bad she was pretty sure it might attempt to murder her.

Hence, her need to pick up groceries again.

Placing the last item she needed in her basket, May got in line behind a relatively fresh looking inkling who paid for his rather large bag of food and left with a smile and a wave at the cashier. May stared down at the counter, placing her items atop it. They were basic things, more fish (the Octoling seemed to be eating it), a bunch of energy drinks for herself, a refill on bandages, and some toothpaste, because May was running out.

“That’ll be 5000,” said the cashier in a familiar voice, and May was almost too busy realizing she only had 3500 to notice that the cashier just happened to be Agent 4. She stared up at him. Her stared down at her. There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Agent 4 spoke.

“Can you pay, please? You’re holding up the line.”

May looked into her wallet, and then at Agent 4, then back to her wallet, and up to Agent 4. Without breaking eye contact, she pocketed her savings, grabbed onto the two plastic shopping bags that held her purchases, and bolted out the automatic doors.

“Hey!” Agent 4 yelled, his footsteps echoing behind May’s, “Hey!”

“You’ll never catch me!” May called, speeding up. Sprinting down the sidewalk, she took a sharp turn into a nearby alley and dove behind trash can, bags clutched to her chest like a lifeline. Agent 4’s footsteps were still echoing out. May heard them slow to a stop.

“I know you’re in here,” Agent 4 yelled between heavy breaths, “I saw you go in.”

There were more footsteps, and then standing above May was Agent 4, arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“You stole something,” he said, “a lot of things, actually.”

“You mean the zapfish? As I recall, you steal those too.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“Yeah? So I stole some stuff from your store. What are you gonna do about it?”

Shrugging, Agent 4 shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know.” He paused for a moment, thinking, and then added, “I think the guy behind you called the police though, so you should probably go.”

A thought occurred to May as she began to stand, “Why are you helping me?”

He shrugged again, “I don’t really know.” From his tone he seemed sincere. “I guess even after we yelled at each other, I still want to be your friend.”

“Don’t count on it.” May said.

Agent 4 sighed, “I figured as much,” he said bitterly, “Just go.”

May turned and ran down the alley. Climbing the rusty fire escape was easy, and she quickly made her way atop the building. She sprinted across the roof, jumping the short span over an alley to the building next to where she stood.

A familiar rush had fallen over her, a rush of adrenaline mixed into guilt. It had been so long since May had felt anything of the sort. She was reminded then of events long passed, and had to stop, her breaths heavy. Dropping the bags onto the roof, May fell to her knees on the hard concrete.

May had promised herself she would stop doing shit like this long ago, yet here she was, her hands full of stolen goods, running away like some maniac. She sighed, calming herself, and stood up. It had been years. This would change nothing.

Now, May had to focus on getting home. Continuing her trek over buildings, she moved forwards. A thought crossed her mind as she jumped to the next building, grabbed onto the edge, and pulled herself up to the roof.

She had stolen something, and Agent 4 had helped her. He had just let her make off with a bunch of merchandise (cheap as it was), and for what? Friendship? May scoffed at the very thought of it. No matter what he tried, Agent 4 would never be her friend. She didn’t need him. She was perfectly fine on her own.

May climbed down to the base of the building she was on. Her apartment was next door. Making her way to the door, May pulled out her keys. She’d have to feed the Octoling again, and check its bandages. Just before May opened the door, she stopped for a moment, pushing out the thought that had bubbled up in her mind.

She was, really, really lonely.

* * *

It had been days, hours, weeks. The Octoling was unsure of how many. All that she knew was that movement meant less pain than it once had. The days before had passed in timeless misery. The Octoling had floated through everything in a state of constant misery after her initial pain, barely noticing the Inkling putting her back together. The pain had dulled now, and with her mind clear the Octoling was at last able to wonder how long she had been there, and how long she had left before the Inkling finally did something to her.

The time was coming soon, and the Octoling knew it. Soon she would be able to move on her own, and surely the Inkling knew to restrain her before that happened so she could not escape? The Octoling knew the Inkling would begin her tortures soon. Things so horrid not even the Interrogators could cook them up would surely be done to her. The Octoling knew that the Inkling would take pride, perhaps even a deep, sick, pleasure in the torture she would undergo.

Wondering why the Inkling hadn’t started already, the Octoling fell back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was a dull, grey color, matching the walls. the floor, the bedspread, and everything else in the room. It was as if all of the color had been sucked out of it long ago, and the Octoling was living in its aftermath.

She rolled over, squeezing her eyes shut. Distant sounds came from far away, the hums of the prison’s life support systems droning away in the distance. In that at least, she was reminded of her home.

The Octoling missed the underground caves she had been raised in and the squad she had trained with. For all its faults, it was her home.

This place was nothing like that.

Hearing the turning of the latch in the door, the Octoling straightened, becoming rigid, just as the Inkling came in. Would this be the day? The Inkling seemed distracted, barely glancing at the Octoling. A plate of food was placed on the end of the bed and then the Inkling was as gone as quickly as she came.

The Octoling was alone once more. She pushed herself upwards to a sitting position, sniffing the fish carefully for drugs before taking a small bite.

She would have to escape soon. It was her only choice.


	5. In Which Something Finally Happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that my update is a bit late, guys. I mean, I still managed to make it on a weekend, but I was really busy with my school's homecoming dance and other things. Still, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

May had gone to bed that night with an overwhelming sense of wrongness in the pit of her stomach. She had curled up on her sofa, fully clothed, and pulled herself into a little ball like she had when she was younger and things had been better. There was no stuffed animal to hug anymore; May had left it behind, and so she hugged herself instead, squeezing her eyes shut.

She didn’t fall asleep.

Staring blankly at the peeling paint on her wall, May wondered why she was so worked up about stealing. She stole all the time from the Octarians. Why should this be any different to her? It was only something small anyway, it wasn’t as though many people would be affected-

May tugged on her tentacles. That was the exact same reasoning she had used before. After all of that promising, all of that bargaining with herself, was she really going to turn back? She didn’t want to. Never again. Never again.

May would prove him wrong.

She found her blanket and pulled it up over herself. The feeling of wrongness had only become worse since she had sat there. It was as though everything was heavy, her blanket, the dust in the air, the very air itself. Everything felt like it was forcing itself atop her. May buried her face into the cushions, eventually drifting into a fitful sleep.

* * *

_May was tiny. Very tiny. She was so tiny that her skin had not yet developed and her tentacles were short, barely reaching the bottoms of her ears. She sat on the playground, atop the jungle gym, surveying the mulch covered play area for any intruders to her dominion. Nobody had approached her so far, all too busy in the field playing Good Guys and Bad Guys._

_Metal echoed behind her, and she turned to see an inkling boy almost as small as she was, his eyes a bright orange, climbing up to her._

_“Go away!” She yelled, “This is my playground! Go play Good Guys and Bad Guys like everyone else always does.”_

_The boy just smiled, inching his way towards her. “Why don’t you share your playground? It can be our playground. That way you won’t have to rule all of it and be all stressed out and stuff.”_

_May considered his words for a moment, and then nodded. That seemed fair. “I’ll let you in.”_

_The little boy finished his climb and plopped down next to her. “My name’s Donn. What's yours?"_

_"I'm May."_

_"Let's be best friends from now on then!"_

_"Okay!" May smiled. She went to say something else, but he was gone. The jungle gym began to crumble, breaking into pieces and falling. The mulch lifted up, trembling in the air, and melting into a darkness that covered the whole area. May was alone again. She was taller, her skin almost fully formed and her tentacles down past her shoulders._

_Trembling, she turned in the darkness, hands clutching her shirt. Her eyes fell on Don. He was older now too, his face twisted in rage, all directed at her, and only her. May stepped forwards, a hand out to calm him, but he only pushed her back._

_"I can't believe you would do that!" He yelled. Tears welled up in his eyes. May felt her own grow wet to match. "I trusted you, and you betrayed me! You betrayed all of us!"_

_"Don please! I didn't know!"_

_"You're lying! I know you are!"_

_"Stop it! Stop it! I'm sorry-"_

May shot up like a bullet, panting hard. She pressed her hands to her forehead, rubbing gently, and tried to calm her breathing. The moon was still far up in the sky, filtering silver light in through her window. Something had woken her up, and it wasn't the nightmare.

May threw the blanket off of herself and stood up. She would have to investigate the crash that had come from the Octoling's room.

* * *

A few hours before May had even arrived home, weary and cold, the Octoling had lain on the bed, gently touching her wrappings. It was probably not the best idea to touch them, she knew, but the closer she was to being fully healed, at least enough to move, the closer she was to escaping this horrible place.

The Octoling poked her wound, wincing slightly at the stinging pain that coursed through her. No matter. What sort of Octoling Soldier would she be if she could not suppress her pain to fight another day?

The Octoling sat up, looking around the room. It was messy, yet somehow it felt bare, like there was nothing in it at all. There were in fact, very few objects within the room that the Octoling could see working as an effective weapon at all. The lamp maybe, if she hit the Inkling in the back of the head to knock her out. Still, swinging it around with her wounds while the Inkling had freedom of movement and a possible gun seemed like a bad idea.

The Octoling needed to snoop around more. She pushed herself to the edge of the bed, slipping out of her boots so that her footfalls would remain silent, and dropped to the floor. Everything wobbled. The Octoling fell to the side, bracing herself against the wall until the walls and floors uprighted themselves. It took her a moment to regain her balance, as she had not walked around in quite a while, but eventually the Octoling stood on her own.

She breathed in for only a moment, and then set to work. The Octoling knew she had a small window of time in which she could find her weapon. Her mind switched into a sharper mode. All of the details of the room became more visible as she focused on her task. This was what she was made for.

The Octoling slid open drawers, only to find the few in the room to be empty, except for one, which had some clothing in it. It was in a tall dresser, the wood ruined by water damage and the finish scratched off. It was empty too, and so she turned around to survey the other half of the room.

There was a door on the side that led to what the Octoling knew was a bathroom (the Inkling had carried her there a few times), which had absolutely nothing of use in it. The Octoling was running out of viable weapons quickly.

She checked under the bed, on the empty, dusty shelves, in every damn drawer on that dresser, but there was nothing.

The Octoling wanted to scream. Instead, she bit her lip until it bled, her knees falling out from under her. Pressing her forehead against the dresser, the Octoling let out a strangled sob. She was going to die here. This was it. She would never see her home again. She would never see the kettles that connected the caves, or go to train or work in one of their floating buildings, or even guard a zapfish ever again. All of that had been robbed from her the moment the Inkling had come to take the zapfish they had worked so hard to obtain,

Pushing her trembling fingers under her mask to wipe up the tears that had gotten trapped, pressed against her face and the cool metal she wore over it, the Octoling sighed, deflating. There was no use in acting like this. It was getting her nowhere. She needed to remember her training: the harsh, cold rooms where she had learned not to feel during a mission, only to let ink fly.

She could sob later. Her top priority was surviving, and if surviving meant taking out the Inkling, she would do it. The Octoling pulled herself up with the dresser, startling slightly when it rocked from her weight. She could hear something on top of it, rocking with it. The Octoling stepped back, focusing on the back corner to see just what was there.

It was an object, about 9 inches tall, and covered in several thick layers of dust. From what the Octoling could tell, it was made entirely out of glass. The gears in her mind switched into motion. If she could shatter that object, a piece of it might be sharp enough to stab the Inkling with. It wasn’t perfect; the noise would surely bring the Inkling running and she would lose the element of surprise, but the Octoling wasn’t looking for perfect. She was looking for survival.

The Octoling was too short to reach the very top of the dresser, so she pushed up from the floor, ignoring the stitches she could feel popping as she moved too much, and balanced herself on the top corner of the dresser.

It rocked back for a moment from the force of her jump, hitting the wall, before rocking forwards from the Octoling’s weight and landing with a thud and a crash on the floor. As hoped, the object shattered into a hundred pieces. The Octoling landed directly on them, ignoring how the glass sliced into her feet, and grabbed the sharpest piece in she could find. It dug into her hand when she gripped it tightly, drawing blood, but she didn’t care. The door was opening. The Inkling was coming in, and the Octoling had a job to do.

The moment the door had opened fully, she jumped, glass shard aimed straight at the Inkling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger  
> I feel like I should acknowledge my friend Amazingspaceship, the only reason I even actually wrote this fanfiction, for helping me come up with plot and the like. I forgot to do it at chapter one, whoops. If we're going further with the acknowledgements (it feels like I just won an award now) I'd like to thank everyone who reviews for reviewing because your comments are great and your critiques are great (you know who you are). You guys are great. Thanks for reading this fanfiction.  
> Okay now that the tearful words have been said I think I'm just gonna go now...


	6. In Which Shit Goes Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the late update!

As silently as she could, May inched towards her door to investigate the crash she had heard. Pulling the door open, she was greeted with the sight of the Octoling hunched over on the floor. Her dresser had fallen over, clearly the source of the crash. Shards of broken glass were scattered all over the floor, by the wall, near the bed, and under the Octoling’s feet.

May stepped forwards, concerned. Before she was even able to lift a finger, however, the Octoling made its move, jumping from the floor, a rather large and sharp shard of glass gripped so tightly in hand it has sliced the Octoling's palm open. Years of practice in turf wars and as an agent was the only thing that saved May from being hit.

Years of practice was apparently nothing to the Octoling. It recovered quickly, swiping at May a second time. Barely able to escape the second time, May winced as the Octoling managed to clip her tentacle. Ink trickled from the wound, as the Octoling had cut into her ink sacks, but it wasn’t too bad.

It would be a lot worse, if May couldn’t manage to subdue the Octoling.

Barely a moment had passed before May was sprinting away, attempting to put space between herself and the Octoling. Jumping over her sofa, May ran until she slammed into the wall as far away from the Octoling she could possibly get. The Octoling was injured. It would be slow moving, right? Right?

The Octoling was going faster than May was. It vaulted over the sofa, launching itself right at May.

Ducking away from the wall, May sprinted in the opposite direction of the Octoling, barely catching a glimpse of it turning mid-run to chase her.

This wasn’t good. This really wasn’t good. Even as the Octoling spread bloody, blue footprints all over May’s carpet, it moved as though it was unaffected. It was either unaware of its injuries or it just didn’t care. It seemed as though it were a machine built only for combat, one that could go on forever without maintenance. It seemed almost as though it were emotionless.

In an effort to get away, May took the high ground, pushing herself atop her beat up kitchen counter. Throwing all of the random crap May often left on it at the Octoling, May somehow managed to keep it away from her for a solid few seconds. Her cutting board went first, and then her few good plates, all crashing to the floor. She had nearly thrown her phone at it, but that was her only way of contacting Captain Cuttlefish, and she didn’t have nearly enough for a replacement. Somehow, despite currently being in a life or death situation, money was still on her mind.

The Octoling dodged each and every object with a practiced ease. It was almost frustrating how it bent, its back arching as though it were second nature, to avoid any obstructions in its path to May.

Hearing the distinct clinking noise of her foot touching metal, May glanced down to see a knife, its handle worn but its blade still sharp, sitting on the counter. Her mind filled with the possibilities. Her way out was here. Bending down to grab it, May was startled when a pink hand grasped the handle, wrenching the knife out from under May’s foot and throwing her off balance.

‘Of course the Octoling made it to me’, she thought bitterly as she struggled to regain her footing. As quickly as it came, the thought disappeared, when May felt the pain of a rather large and sharp piece of glass being shoved into her left thigh. Blood, the same blue and the Octoling’s, spilled from the wound, and with that final hit May found herself falling backwards.

She flew for a small moment, grasping for a hold but catching only air. Crumpling to the linoleum floor, May’s banged against her already dented cabinets. She groaned for a moment, clutching the back of her head, vision swimming. Pain swarmed her entire body.

As May shook the blur from her eyes, she noticed the Octoling standing above her, utterly silent, like an animal hunting its prey. It’s mask was cold and emotionless, it’s lips neutral. It’s blood had spread on the handle of the knife, and yet it ignored the pain, as if it were a machine that could not feel.

Could it feel? May had the sudden realization that she had no idea what it was thinking. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to wonder if it was as scared as she was, or if it only thought of her demise.

Pulling herself from her thoughts, May pushed herself away from the Octoling, scrambling to escape. Her back hit the dented wood of the cabinets. There was nowhere for her to go.

The Octoling fell on top of her, holding her arms down with its legs. With one hand, it held down her shoulder, immobilising her, and with the other hand it held up the knife. In its glinting blade, May saw her own reflection: her baggy eyes, their pink irises wide against their small pupils, the skin around them puffy and red. She looked about as pathetic as she felt.

The Octoling was going to kill her, and she would die alone, forgotten, in a puddle of her own blood and filth. Nobody would find her for quite a while. She didn’t even have anyone to look for her...

It was not the way she had wanted to go, May realized, as the knife came down, an axe swinging to sever a neck on the chopping block. The closer the knife got, the more time seemed to slow down. May wanted it to go faster, to get it over with so she wouldn’t have to live with the shame any longer.

Nobody would care she was gone anyway.

The knife was a few inches from May’s head when a sudden ringing echoed about the room, startling the Octoling slightly. The knife was thrust several inches to the left in its confusion, slicing through May’s tentacle just below the ear and jamming into the floor.

May almost laughed hysterically. Good old Captain Cuttlefish, giving her a phone call. The weight of the Octoling left her as it searched wildly for the source of the sound. Pushing herself up with now trembling fingers, May watched as the Octoling found the phone, still ringing that awful high pitched toll, and snapped it in half with its bare hands. The ringing abruptly cut off.

May was screwed.

The Octoling turned to May, poised to attack. Not wanting to almost die (or actually die) again, May launched herself at the Octoling before it moved, sending both of them crashing to the tile in a flurry of limbs.

May kneed it in the guts, right on its injuries, and the Octoling retaliated by kicking her leg with its leg, sending the glass shard in deeper. Withstanding a punch to the eye, May grabbed one of the Octoling’s tentacles and wrenched it sideways. The Octoling seized up at the pain in what appeared to be a rather sensitive spot when pulled on both Octolings and Inklings, allowing May time to stand up. Limping to her bedroom, May attempted to come up with a plan.

There was nothing in her house in the way of items designed to restrain. Still, she would have to restrain the Octoling if she wanted to survive. Her hands still trembling, she entered her bedroom, stepped over the fallen dresser as best she could, and pulled the bloodstained blanket from her bed.

The Octoling came in the door only a moment later, when May had managed to twist the bedding into something that vaguely resembled a poorly made rope. She had one chance at this, one chance to defeat the Octoling and survive.

Sprinting directly at the Octoling, May met it in the middle. She threw the blanket over it, startling it. May changed her course slightly and ran past it, grabbing the ends on the other side and pulling, capturing the Octoling's shoulders as she criss-crossed the two ends and pulled them back to the front.

Her plan was working. It was actually working!

May pushed the Octoling to the floor, sitting above it as she restrained it further down its arms. It was hard going. The Octoling did everything it possibly could, grabbing, kicking, thrashing, to keep May from tying it up. But she had to. There were no other options.

It was about halfway through when May felt rather than saw the pain in her abdomen. Wetness spread over her shirt. She glanced down to see that clutched in the Octoling’s hand was the knife, May’s blood trickling down the handle.

Oh shit.

Forcing herself to work faster, to finish before she passed out, May tied up the Octoling's arms, ripping the knife from her body. It’s thrashing legs came next, and then May was tangling the two ends of rolled blanket in knot after knot after knot after knot after knot until the Octoling could no longer move.

As quickly as she could, May lifted the Octoling, placed it on her bed, and staggered out the door, nearly tripping over the fallen dresser as she did so.

Clutching the wound on her abdomen, May stumbled forwards through the room. She needed more than anything to find her first aid materials. May knew they sat on her kitchen table. She just had to get there, then she could survive. She was so close. If she died now...

She couldn’t die now.

May nearly fell into one of the chairs, searching wildly with her hands for the disinfectant. Finding it, she dumped nearly half of it onto the wound, wiping the blood away with a cotton ball. May spent a few minutes attempting to string the floss onto the needle until she finally got it with a triumphant cry. Her fingers were too shaky to sew the wound cleanly, and wrapping it was another mess altogether, but May somehow managed to finish.

There was still her ankle. It hurt to bend forwards, but she forced herself to lift her leg. May pulled the glass shard out with a cry of pain, placing it on the table. Her fingers had begun to calm. May cleaned, sewed, and wrapped up the wound with much more ease than before.

It was then that she finally allowed herself a moment to breath. Everything began to slow down as May herself began to calm down. Her chest rose and fall in slow, heavy movements. Breath in ten seconds, breath out ten seconds.

May couldn’t stop trembling.

She had almost died. Dying was being splatted and not coming back, trapped within darkness, cold, slowly losing your idea of who you were until your soul was a wisp of what it once was. There was no redo. Just pain, and darkness, and nothing. May would have been gone, and she had nobody who cared enough for her to even look for her.

Somehow, that thought was scarier to her than the dying part. It had struck May before, how little interaction she had with other Inklings. She had tried not to let it bother her. Friends were overrated, anyway. May had gotten through just fine without them.

On the other hand, May was so lonely.

No. She was not going down that path of thought. All having friends had ever done for her was give her a ratty apartment and a criminal record.

Attempting to get her mind away from the concern that had been creeping upon her for far too long, May inspected the glass shard.

It was rather large, for a piece of glass. May wondered what the Octoling had broken to get it. As she turned it in her hands, her fingers brushed over a set of grooves. May wiped away the blood to find the words etched into the glass.

_‘...awarded to DON ACADIAN, TERRA ACADIAN, GRAVEL SWEEPER AND MAY PIKE._

She sighed. This line of thought wasn't much better than the first. It had been a while since she had thought of the trophy that had once sat on her dresser, gathering dust. The Octoling appeared to have shattered it in order to obtain a weapon.

May would need to clean it off of the floor, eventually. She thought of doing it right then and there, but nixed the idea. She didn't want to have to see the Octoling a second time.

Whenever May closed her eyes, the image of the Octoling, towering above her, May's death in it's hands would appear. She could still make out every small detail of the image, from how the moonlight had hit the Octoling just so, to how she still could feel the weight of it on top of her.

Shaking herself, May pushed herself to a standing position. It hurt to walk, but May didn't care. She needed to vent on something, to push the images of her near death from her mind, and Captain Cuttlefish had recently called. May wanted a reason to leave her apartment for a few hours, and a mission sounded like a great idea. It was a good thing she knew how to hide an injury.

* * *

The Octoling wanted to cry, but nothing was coming out. Everything hurt again. There was still glass in her feet and the large gash in her hand was still bleeding slightly, despite he fact that everything had begun to scab.

She had failed. She had failed in her escape, and now she would die. At any second, the inkling would come in, and beat her, or maim her, or just kill her right then and there. She was anticipating the familiar creaking of the door, and those deceptively gentile hands finally hurting her for real, like they were supposed to.

Time passed, the Octoling unsure of how long, and the inkling never came. The Octoling has stabbed her. Maybe she had really died. In that case, the Octoling needed to get out of her bonds. She attempted to move her legs, finding that they were tightly bound. Her arms were as well, but she could still move her hands a bit. All she needed to do was get them close enough to her bonds and she could untie herself.

 _Focusing on one thing at a time would be good_ , she thought as she began to push herself to get untied. At least this way, when the inkling finally came in (if the inkling came) she could maybe fight back.

She had to survive this if she ever wanted to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally. I finally finished this chapter. I'm done. I'm actually done.


	7. In Which The Author Intended To Write A Shorter Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally not being posted really late at night anymore! I think this chapter is my longest one yet. It was fun.

Agent 4 leaned against the Captain’s shack, his arms crossed, listening to the Captain talk about the Octarian position.

“They’ve stolen zapfish,” Captain Cuttlefish was saying, “from these locations.” He then pointed with a wrinkly finger at one of the locations on the map, circled in red ink, “Look at that pattern there. All the thefts make a circle, and it leads right here.” Captain Cuttlefish pointed at the center of all of the red marks.

“But that’s so obvious,” Agent 2 said, her green eyes narrowed, “the Octarians are smarter than that.”

Getting used to the squid sisters had been weird, to say the least. Agent 4 had been a huge fan ever since they had come into the spotlight a few years ago. He had spent a while unsure of whether or not he could even talk to them. Agent 1 had cleared that up by simply introducing herself to him.

Agent 2 had come soon after with a witty remark, and Captain Cuttlefish was a given friend, always supportive. The only one that didn’t seem to accept him or want to be his friend was Agent 3. Every time he saw her, she was always glaring at him, telling him to go away, or ignoring him.

She was a little worrying, to be honest. Agent 4 could still remember watching the look of panic on her face and the way her hands nearly, but not quite, trembled right before she stole the groceries. What had brought her to need to steal them so badly? She had clutched them like a lifeline, and Agent 4 had been loathe to let the police catch her.

What was her life even like? Agent 4 wasn’t even insulted by her flippant rudeness anymore. He just wanted to make sure she hadn’t gotten in a bad situation or something.

Speaking of Agent 3, there she was, making her way slowly out of the grate. She was wasn’t wearing her gear, but a ratty T-Shirt, frayed knee socked, and worn down sneakers. Her communicator was held in one hand and not over her ears.

“Agent 3!” Captain Cuttlefish exclaimed when he noticed her. “I called you earlier and you didn’t answer.”

“Sorry,” Agent 3 paused for a moment, “My phone broke.”

“Well that's fine. We just need your input on this. We might be on to the Octarians.”

Agent 3 walked over to the map and stared at it for an unnatural amount of time.

“Maybe they want us to investigate the center of the map? It would make more sense for them to take things closer to their opening.”

“You think it’s a trap?” Agent 1 asked.

Agent 3 nodded, “Maybe the entrance is along the circle and not inside of it.” Then she shrugged, “I don’t know though.”

Captain Cuttlefish tugged at the stubble of tentacles on his chin. Suddenly, his eyes lit up with an idea, “Wait a minute! Why don’t we just ask the Octarian?” He gestured to where DJ Octavio sat, glaring at basically everyone.

“Because he’s an Octarian and he’ll never tell us anything that could betray his people.” Agent 4 said. “I don’t trust him, anyway.”

“Neither do I,” Agent 2 agreed.

“No use in not trying,” the Captain said. He turned to the clear globe where DJ Octavio was kept, “Hey Octavio, do you know where your entrances to Inkopolis are?”

DJ Octavio glared at him. Captain Cuttlefish didn’t look too put out. He pressed on. “Do you not know? Did you never bother to learn? If you don’t know-”

“Of course I know you idiot!” DJ Octavio suddenly yelled. The entire group flinched at his booming voice, which, although severely muffled by the glass, still somehow managed to be intimidating. “I just won’t give any information like that to the likes of you!”

“See? What did I tell you? He’s an Octarian. The only thing he cares about is making the lives of us Inklings horrible. They're all the same." Agent 4 said, knowing himself to be true.

"We might as well get those zapfish back." Said Agent 2, "Let's split up. Agent 1 and I can get one of the zapfish, and Agents 3 and 4 can get the other."

"What about the third one?" Agent 3 asked, “I could get that one.”

"We haven't figured out where it is yet. It’s not like they get stolen and we just magically know where they are.”

There was a pause.

Unwilling to let that pause stretch too far, Agent 4 spoke up, “Well, I guess we should go then! What’s kettle are we going to today?”

Captain Cuttlefish relayed the kettle number. It was relatively nearby, so Agent 4 decided to walk. Agent 3 followed him at a slow pace, clipping her communicator on along the way. Agent 4 said nothing about her lack of uniform, not wanting to incite her rage.

When they popped out on the other end of the kettle, it was deathly silent. There was no beat itching through the cave. The screens that surrounded the area with a view of the sky were off, and was it just Agent 4, or was the light at the top of the cave dimmer? Were the four of them actually making a dent in the Octarian forces?

“Are we gonna splat some Octarians or what?” said Agent 3, startling Agent 4 from his thoughts.

“Yeah,” he nodded, preparing his gun. The two began to make their way forwards. The zapfish was far off into the distance. Agent 4 could barely make out the legion of Octarian forces surrounding it.

They came across a few Octotroopers pretty early on. Before Agent 4 could even move, Agent 3 jumped right in front of them, splatting them both in an incredibly reckless move. This was how you lost turf wars, and it certainly wasn’t how you went through Octarian territory.

“You coming?” Agent 3 began to run forwards. Agent 4 had no choice but to follow her as she cleared a path for him.

They had passed two checkpoints and were hiding behind a pillar from several Octosnipers when Agent 4 spoke up, grabbing Agent 3’s arm and stopping her from stepping right out there and shooting.

“What the heck are you doing!? You’ll get yourself splatted easily like that.”

“We need to keep going, now come on and help me!”

“Are you kidding me? No way! Just wait for a moment until they roll by and we can swim behind them. Come on, aren’t you supposed to be the expert here? You’ve been an Agent longer than I have.”

“Don’t care,” was all Agent 3 said. She pushed from his grasp, jumping right into the line of fire.

Agent 4 resisted the urge to groan. Instead, he swam past where Agent 3 was busy being shot at. Jumping from the ink, he surprised the first Octosniper, splatting it with a new ease he had just gained himself. He turned to the other Octosniper just in time to see it fire directly at Agent 3. Quickly splatting it, Agent 4 ran over to where Agent 3 had been. She popped out of the ink a few inches away from where she had once stood, which was now covered in enemy ink. Agent 4 groaned.

“You nearly lost your tentacles there!” He yelled, “I could spend 3 hours listing the reasons why that was a really stupid thing you just did and not even have covered it all!”

Agent 3 gave him a blank stare, scratching under her shirt near her abdomen with one hand. “Let’s just go find some more Octarians to fight.”

She began to walk again. Following was a surprisingly easy task, as her pace was oddly slow. The scenery began to change. Platforms held together by bridges were replaced by rows of sponges. Agent 3 quickly shot ahead. Swimming through the ink, the two landed on the other side. Everything was going surprisingly, but suspiciously well. They had not come across any Octarians since the Octosnipers. The zapfish, although still surrounded, was getting nearer and nearer.

The moment they super jumped for the first time that day, everything went to shit.

Agent 4 could only watch as Agent 3 gave a cry of pain when they landed, falling to the ground. He was barely given time to react. Jumping out from nearby ink was an Octoling, and it did not look friendly.

To be fair, they never looked friendly.

With a glance to Agent 3, Agent 4 knew he had to distract the Octoling. Agent 3 was in no position to fight.

Tossing a burst bomb in the Octoling’s general direction, Agent 4 moved forwards, advancing on it. The Octoling, as agile as they ever were, easily moved from Agent 4’s range and retaliated with bombs of its own. Agent 4 sent out a seeker, watching with satisfaction as it hit the Octoling, splattering ink everywhere. The battle was over. The zapfish was very close, only a few meters away.

It had been too easy.

Agent 4, although suspicious, turned instead to where Agent 3 lay behind him, huddling in a little ball. She was his top priority right now. Kneeling beside her, Agent 4 gently touched her shoulder. Her eyes snapped to him almost immediately.

“Are you okay?”

Agent 3 groaned, “What do you think?”

Rolling his eyes, Agent 4 leaned over to lift Agent 3. Hissing in pain, Agent 3 grit her teeth.

“What happened?” Agent 4 couldn’t help but ask is he noticed the blood that was spreading like an explosion over Agent 3’s shirt, “Is- is that _blood?_ Why are you bleeding?”

“Not... important.” Agent 3 seemed to be slowing down now from earlier. Agent 4 had to get her out of Octarian territory, and fast.

The wet thunk of feet hitting the ground hard that accompanied a super jump behind him stole Agent 4’s attention. Glancing quickly over his shoulder, Agent 4 watched in horror as an Octoling landed in front of the zapfish. It had yet to notice him, as it seemed too busy investigating the ink that sat in the place where the other Octoling had been.

This was getting to be a problem. He needed to hide Agent 3, and fast. There was a very convenient wall, accompanied by a few crates only a little ways off. Hefting Agent 3 in his arms, he dashed with lightning speed behind it. Hidden from view, he set Agent 3 down just in time to hear two more thunks. This was getting bad. One Octoling, he could take out. Three however? Not like this, when Agent 3 was such an easy target.

Peeking from the side of the wall, Agent 4 was able to get a look at what they were dealing with.

The Octoling from before was knelt in front of Agent 4’s green ink-splatters, feeling the consistency with a gentle hand. “Looks like there was a fight,” it said, turning to the other two, “I think whoever it was got Iola though.”

The Octoling standing directly to its right seemed to scoff, “Duh. What do you think happened, Iola just ran off?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” the first one muttered, “I can’t believe she made it to the Elite Corp with an attitude like hers.”

“Private! Now is not the time.” said the last one. It wore a piece of kelp on either side of its head, and its tentacles were black. “We have bigger squids to fry. Remember our job?”

“Private Chalcedony is just mad because Lacey got promoted to Commander Kelp’s platoon and she didn’t.” Said the standing one, grinning very obviously despite its mask.

“Shut up!” Said Private Chalcedony, elbowing the taller one in the leg. “At least I’m higher in rank than you are, Verbena. I’m more likely to rise in the ranks than you ever will be.”

The black tentacled Octoling slapped its face with its hand and held it there, groaning. It glanced up for a second, and what little of its face Agent 4 could see (which wasn’t much) immediately positioned itself into a look of horror.

“It’s the Commander, she’s coming. Look alive!” the Octoling yelled. The two Privates stood at attention immediately as a fourth Octoling landed in front of them.

“Captain Yucca,” said the fourth Octoling, “Privates.”

It was the oddest Octoling Agent 4 had ever seen. The Octoling’s silver mask had symbols that must have meant something to the Octarians etched into its sides. It’s body was covered with elaborate but light looking silver armor. On either side of its head were three pieces of kelp instead of one. It looked familiar.

“Commander Kelp!” Captain Yucca said, with just the smallest hint of a stutter in its voice, “to what do we owe this visit?”

Commander Kelp grinned sharply. Agent 4 was reminded suddenly of his first mission ever with Agent 3. This was that same Octoling from before. He could tell from the way it stood, from the way the other Octolings looked to it with some sort of reverence. Agent 4 was sure of it.

“The other zapfish we stole has just been taken back.”

Good old Agents 1 and 2, Agent 4 thought to himself. If only he was having the same luck they were.

Commander Kelp continued, “That means they’ll be coming either here, or to the other  zapfish. Get into position. I want to catch myself some squid for dinner.”

“Yes sir,” the three chimed in unison. Utterly silent, they positioned themselves around the zapfish. It was as though a change came over them. They became the silent, deadly, killers that Agent 4 had known them to be. Commander Kelp walked forwards with purpose, patrolling the area. Quickly pulling himself back behind the wall, Agent 4 did his best to make sure he and Agent 3 remained silent.

It was not very hard. Agent 3’s breathing was slowly becoming more shallow. Her eyes seemed out of focus. This was getting bad, really bad.

He would have to take out the Octolings. Curling his fingers around the handle of his gun with one hand, and grabbing a seeker with the other, he peeked out from the wall. Commander Kelp was spraying the ground with ink, probably ready to kill the next inkling it saw.

Agent 4 sent out the seeker, cursing to himself when the Commander simply side-stepped it, allowing it to explode against the other wall. He barely had time to react to the barrage of ink that came his way, not even able to sidestep it.

Yet the ink landed to the side of him. For a moment, he thought that the Commander knew Agent 3 was there, and then that it had really bad aim. It wasn’t any of those.

He tried to move, but found himself slow from the wayward splatters of its ink. Shit. The only thing he could do was throw bomb after bomb after bomb. If the Octolings were deadly, this one was on a whole nother level. It nonchalantly made the smallest possible movements to avoid Agent 4’s ink. The moment he ran out, it went on the offensive, abandoning its gun and grabbing him by the shoulder. In a swift movement without any effort in it at all, it tossed Agent 4 onto its ink. It was like a monster, a sharp toothed, deadly, macabre monster with its limbs more dangerous than knives and its grinning face revealing a thirst for blood. He turned to run, but the other Octoling’s had flanked him, covering the ground all around him in ink.

He couldn’t move.

The three Octolings pointed their guns at him, the threat of being splatted already there as Commander Kelp lifted him by the tentacle. He winced at its tight grip on one of the most sensitive spots on the body.

“What do we have here?” asked Commander Kelp in a mocking tone, “a little inkling all lost and alone? I wonder where his master is.”

Scowling, Agent 4 gave it his best glare.

It only laughed. “So where are your friends, little inkling?”

“Like I’d ever tell you.”

“Oh, you will. I’ll make you.”

Agent 4 spat in its face. The Octoling slapped him so hard his cheek would sting for hours afterwards, he was sure of it.

“Remove his ink tank,” Commander Kelp said, dropping Agent 4 to the ground, “and tie him up. We’re taking him back to base.”

Agent 4 couldn’t help but cry out as his ink tank was torn from his back. The connectors that pulled ink from his body were ripped out and the tank was tossed to the side. The small amount of ink he had refilled spilled over the ground.

Agent 4 couldn’t die now. He had to keep Inkopolis safe, and he had to make sure Agent 3 was all right.

His arms were pulled behind his back and tied up with spiked wires that dug into his wrists.

“Try and move, and you get hurt.” said Captain Yucca behind him. The cold metal of its gun was still pressed against the back of his neck.

Agent 4 found himself wondering how Agent 3 was doing, not noticing himself glancing to the wall he had hidden her behind. Commander Kelp caught on quickly.

“Oh? It appears the little inkling does have a companion here today. Fan out.”

One of the Octolings, Verbena, if Agent 4 remembered correctly, left its position to investigate. As it came nearer and nearer, Agent 4 held his breath.

Verbena disappeared from sight, popping back a moment later with a shrug. “There’s nobody there. Just some ink up the wall. So either he’s alone or-” Verbena was suddenly cut off by the explosion of green ink that sent its spirit floating away. A flurry of burst bombs had landed on it.

Agent 3 had swam up the wall. The Octoling’s turned to where she sat on top of it, clearly injured but not completely out of commission. Tossing a splat bomb into Agent 4’s lap, she forced the three Octoling’s left away from him. Now was his chance to get out of the way while Agent 3 stayed out of their range, but they stayed in hers.

It was over in a few seconds. Fighting an enemy you couldn’t even reach was hard, especially when there was nowhere to evade to.

“You okay up there?” was the first thing that Agent 4 asked the moment everything had finished exploding.

“...no.” she said, and then fell forwards off of the high wall. She landed on the ground, the air knocked from her. Agent 4 scrambled over, the wires scraping bloody marks on his wrists.

“Can you untie this?” he asked her.

Agent 3 nodded, managing to lift her arms and pulling at a spot on them until they fell off. Agent 4 found himself rubbing his wrists for a moment before lifting Agent 3 up. The blood on her shirt had spread further now, a wet bloom that had stained at least half of the thing blue.

Turning to the zapfish, Agent 4 grabbed it, and placed it on Agent 3’s lap. There was a kettle not very far from where the zapfish was (probably there for quick maintenance). Kettles were often not very far from the zapfish, something that had saved him from reinforcements more than one time. He pushed himself and Agent 3 through the kettle, making quick time back to Octovalley.

As he reformed on the other end, he realized something was wrong. Agent 4’s hands weren’t doing quite what he wanted them to. They trembled, their grip on Agent 3 loosening. He didn’t want to drop her, but his legs were quickly turning to jelly. What was happening?

He couldn’t superjump anymore. Pushing himself as hard as he could, Agent 4 attempted to stagger his way to camp. For a second, he thought he would make it. He could see it, off in the distance, just a few inkrails away.

It was then that his body gave out from under him. In his last few seconds of control, Agent 4 turned himself so that he would take the brunt force of the blow. They landed on the ground hard. It was as though Agent 4 was trapped in a prison, chained to the walls. He couldn’t change where his gaze was pointed, or change the awkward angle his arms had landed in. Poor Agent 3 seemed to have hit her head on the ground. She was twitching slightly, a sign that she was at least still awake.

A sudden tiredness washed over Agent 4. He concentrated on remaining awake, on fighting whatever it was that had done this too him, but it was too late.

His vision blurred and everything faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't supposed to go this way but I fell in love with the Octolings who I had never developed before at this point whoops. They stole the chapter from Agents 3 and 4. This whole plot was supposed to go a lot faster than it is.


	8. In Which There Is Yelling And Crying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tired. If you can figure it out, never take the PSATs. I imagine the regular SATs must be so much worse.

May came to her senses feeling as though someone had thrown a brick at her head, apologized, and then immediately thrown another brick. Her head was about as clear as the mirror in her bathroom during a steamy shower, and it felt like she had spent 200 years walking at a constant speed of too fast.

Groaning, she forced her eyes open. As her vision unblurred itself, a rather comical picture forced itself into her mind.

She had been lain in front of DJ Octavio’s prison. The concerned faces of Agents 1 and 2, as well as Captain Cuttlefish hovered above her. Oh, was that DJ Octavio, too? Okay.

Were she a bit more awake, she would have questioned her immediate acceptance of this fact, but she wasn’t. In fact, the only thing she was truly questioning in her mind was why she was in such pain in the first place.

“No no no,” DJ Octavio was yelling, “that is not how you clean a wound!”

“Why do you even care?” Agent 2 yelled back.

DJ Octavio did not grace her with an answer. He simply went back to yelling at Captain Cuttlefish, “Don’t you spend hours sewing fake zapfish? Weren’t you in the military? I figured you would be better at this!”

“I’m looping this through skin and not fabric. I haven’t done this in years!” Captain Cuttlefish, looking rather agitated for once, shouted back, “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m old!”

There was a silence which was quickly broken by Agent 1 pressing her hands to her mouth, “Is that a black eye?”

“Agent 3 is bleeding out and the black eye is what you latch on to?”

“I’m just worried, okay?” Agent 1 glanced to the side, “about both of them.”

Agent 3 followed Agent 1’s gaze and nearly did a double take. Laying next to her, his eyes shut, his wrists wrapped with bandages, was Agent 4.

“I told you,” DJ Octavio said, “he’s fine. My Agents probably tied his hands,” he looked a little proud at this, “and there’s a sedative in the spikes on the wires. He brought this on himself by struggling.”

“Well it isn’t very reassuring seeing him sitting there and not moving!” Agent 3 was starting to lose track of who was talking, her head pounding to hard to keep up..

“At least Agent 3 has woken up!”

There was a groan from Agent 3’s side.

“And there’s Agent 4.” Well, at least she knew who that person was.

“He’s fine. What did I fucking tell you.”

“Ugh... what happened?”

“You got poisoned.”

“Huh- oh yeah. Is Agent 3 okay?”

Why was that the first thing he thought? Agent 4 didn’t care about her. Nobody did. Not even herself.

“She’ll be fine if we can just patch up these wounds.”

“You could be going faster if Cuttlefish wasn’t absolutely horrible at this.”

“Hey!”

“Why is he helping us!?”

Everyone shrugged. DJ Octavio looked away.

“Do you know why Agent 3 was hurt?” Was that Agent 1 or 2? Why wouldn’t her head just shut up?

“N-no. We were super jumping and when we landed she collapsed.”

“Hey Agent 3?”

Agent 3 groaned. “...yes?”

“Why are you bleeding so heavily?”

“Got- got stabbed.”

“You got what!?” That was definitely everyone, except DJ Octavio. There was an odd pinprick of pain in Agent 3’s side. She grit her teeth.

“Captain Cuttlefish! Get your ass into gear and actually sew her up right!”

“How did you get stabbed!?” That was definitely Agent 4.

"With a knife." Was Agent 3's answer. There was no way she could tell them the real reason she was bleeding out.

The pinprick of the needle finally left her abdomen. She was wrapped up quickly, and the pain transferred to her ankle.

Before Agent 3 knew it, they had finished. Her head felt a little better, as though someone had thrown a brick at it, apologized, and actually stopped throwing bricks at her. It could have been far better, but at least it wasn't as bad as it had been.

"I'll take her home," Agent 4 said, getting shakily to his feet. The last effects of the poison were wearing off. "She needs to rest."

"Okay then. Be careful."

Agent 3 felt the ground fall out from under her as she was lifted in the air. Everything became a blur. Before she knew it, Inkopolis stretched out in front of her.

"Where's your house?" Agent 4 asked.

Slipping back into the mindset of May, she relayed directions to him. As long as he didn't see the Octoling, everything would be fine. She probably wasn't thinking clearly. It didn't matter. May was tired. Her stamina and anger were gone from splatting Octarians. She had stared the Octolings in the face and they hadn't killed her. They hadn't even tried.

They had just stared up at her with their unfeeling masks, unnerving her, like predators on the hunt.

Like the Octoling she had at home.

May wasn't sure if she would be able to face it, but knew she had to. She was still healing it. It couldn't hurt her tied up.

Suddenly, they were at May's apartment building. It was a dirty place, with grimy floors, dirt covered windows, and wallpaper that somehow managed to peel even faster than May's own. She watched as Agent 4 grimaced, probably disgusted with the way she lived. He was disgusted with her too, probably mad he was stuck on babysitting duty.

They reached May's door. It was covered in a chipped coat of red paint, the door knob rusty. Fumbling with her keys, May managed to open the lock.

"Kick the door," she told Agent 4.

"What?"

"It gets jammed a lot. You gotta kick it open."

Agent 4 sighed. With one kick the door nearly swung right off its hinges.

They entered her house. May could tell he was even more disgusted with her now. It was still a wreck from the fight. Items were scattered across the floor. May could see her phone, snapped in half, still resting in the kitchen. The piece of broken glass, the blood dried by now, sat on her table.

"What- what the heck happened, Agent 3?"

May shrugged. "Put me down. I can get you something." If she fed him, maybe he would go away.

"Are you kidding me? You are resting. Where's your bedroom?"

Shit. "Just put me on the sofa."

"Fine." Agent 4 lay her down, sitting on the floor next to her. He stared at a suspicious stain on her ceiling that had been left by the last tenant for a moment, and then spoke. “So, did you get into a fight?”

“What?”

“I’m just wondering how you got stabbed. Did you get into a fight?”

“Of sorts.”

“What happened?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s over.”

Agent 4 turned to meet May’s eyes, “But how do I know it won’t happen again?”

May thought back to the Octoling, still tied up in her room. There was no way she would let it attack her a second time. “It just won’t.”

“That isn’t very reassuring.”

“Why do you even care?”

Agent 4 was silent for another moment. Sighing, he closed his eyes. “Because I don’t like the idea of people getting hurt. I don’t like the idea of you getting hurt, Agent 3. And here you are, hurt.”

What. That wasn’t supposed to be his reaction. Agent 4 didn’t care about May. Nobody cared about May. She was alone, so painfully alone, but she liked it that way. Alone was better. Alone meant that there was nobody to betray.

“So? There’s nothing you could have done,” she managed to get out.

“But maybe I could have done something. Maybe I could have kept you from being hurt in the first place.”

“But- but you have nothing to gain from my safety. There’s nothing you can get from me at all! I don’t have anything to give-”

“I don’t care about what you can give me!” Agent 4 nearly yelled, “I care about you.”

“What?” That wasn’t right. Nobody cared about May. Nobody on the whole damn planet cared about May. There might have been people long ago, but that was then. This was now.

“I know I said some mean things to you the day we met but I- I really want to be your friend, Agent 3! I worry about you! A lot. You always seem so distant, and you looked so scared that one night, like you were afraid I would attack you or something. I don’t want to attack you! I just want to be your friend!”

“That doesn’t even make any sense! Nobody wants to be my friend. I’m alone. That’s just how it is and it will never ever change!”

“Maybe that’s how it was,” Agent 4 said, “but not anymore. I’m going to be your friend whether you like it or not. You don’t have to be alone anymore!”

May didn’t respond.

“Agent 3?” Agent 4 asked. May could barely make out his wide blue eyes on his blurry face. Her face felt like Inkopolis after a particularly bad storm, hot and wet like the humidity and heavy like the air. It took May a moment to realize she was crying.

“Agent 3? Uh, shit.” Agent 4 placed a careful hand on May’s shoulder.

“I-” she couldn’t get a single word out. Slapping her cheeks, May forced herself to calm. “You... you shouldn’t want to be my friend. I shouldn’t have friends at all. I’ll just ruin it in the long run.”

“Too bad for you, but I already am your friend and there is nothing you can do about it.”

May was silent until her tears had calmed from thrashing rivers to small, bubbling brooks.

“May,” she said after a long silence. If he was going to be her friend (she ignored the feeling of joy planted within her like a seed at that thought), he might as well know her name. “My name. It’s May.”

“I’m Aaron.” Aaron held out a hand, “it’s nice to meet you, May.”

They shook hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally know his name! Now the only character whose name hasn't been revealed is the Octoling.


	9. In Which The First Arc Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are guys, chapter nine. I think I like how it's come out so far. This is the end of the first arc. I have several more planned- I think it's going to be a while before I finish this fanfiction.

Aaron left an hour later to catch his shift at the supermarket, promising to come back the next day with a boatload of painkillers and extra bandages. After forcing May to vow to take it easy, he was out the door.

May was alone again. Sitting on the sofa, ankle resting on one of the armrests, May suddenly felt rather empty. Deep down, she already knew that whatever friendship she was about to create with Aaron was never going to last. He would find out all about her soon enough, and then leave her. There was no way for her to prevent this.

Sighing, May deflated. As hard as it was to admit it, she hated this. She hated being alone. It didn’t matter. Eventually, Aaron would leave her. She couldn’t let herself become attached to him. It would only make his eventual rejection hurt more.

May found herself curling up as she had only a few nights earlier. It was still so hard to believe she had actually survived the Octoling trying to kill her. She could remember every detail of their fight clearly, from her first glimpse of the Octoling to the moment it stabbed her. Things became a haze of blood, pain, and determination after that.

The moon had begun to rise again. Night was coming upon May once more. It suddenly hit the Inkling that she had yet to feed the Octoling. Did that count as punishment? Going without food for a day?

It didn’t matter. May was still healing the Octoling. Last she checked, it had almost healed from its injuries, but it may have popped a stitch or two from attacking her, and May knew it had sliced its hand on the glass.

She was going to have to treat those injuries too, wasn’t she? It sure was a good thing that she had the supplies-

The memory of dumping the entire contents of her disinfectant on her wounds suddenly came back to May. Groaning, she slapped herself in the forehead.

She would have to make do with water, for now.

Standing herself up, May got to her first order of business. Food for the Octoling was the easy part. It had slowly begun to consume more fish. May found herself wondering if it was getting bored of fish. It probably was. May knew she would be, too.

Limping to the kitchen, May opened her refrigerator. Immediately, she groaned. What a day to be out of fish. But hey, at least she was still fully stocked in energy drinks nastier than the pus-covered, infected wounds that went untreated she would have a lot when she was younger.

Inspecting her refrigerator, she found some dried seaweed hiding in the back. She forced down the thought of ‘who the heck puts dried seaweed in a refrigerator?’ because she did, apparently, and made her way slowly to the Octoling’s room. Funny how she had stopped thinking of it as her own room.

May opened the door, expecting to see a mopey, motionless Octoling like she usually did. She was instead greeted by an empty bed and the thought that ‘of course the Octoling would get out of a bedsheet you moron, it isn’t like you chained it to the wall or anything.’

May found herself in a weird space between panicking and beginning the search. Placing the seaweed on the bed, she limped around her room, investigating the discarded bedsheet on the floor (there were pieces torn off), and looking around for any possible hiding places. It couldn’t have gone very far.

There was of course, the fear that the Octoling would kill her and take everything it had learned to the Octarians, but May forced it down. She had to stay focused. She could worry about accidentally getting Inkopolis destroyed when the time came for that.

After ten minutes with no sign of the Octoling, May was getting pretty worried. Where had she not looked? Where could it possibly be?

She looked to the bed and wanted to slap herself a second time. Of course it was under the bed. Ignoring her screaming wounds, she knelt on the floor. There was only darkness under the bed- darkness and something else. A glint which May quickly came to realize belonged to the Octoling’s mask.

Suddenly, a hand wrapped in white cloth shot from the darkness, grabbing May by the tentacle and pulling her head into the darkness. Another hand came into view, this one clutching a shard of the glass from May’s old trophy.

As it came nearer, May knew she had to do something, and fast, because it was a direct path from the Octoling’s weapon to her head.

Everything seemed to slow down as May’s breathing spiked to the point where she was hyperventilating. Grabbing the Octoling’s hand and squeezing it, she forced the weapon back, where it scratched against the mask, leaving a crack right down the middle. Forcing herself out from under the bed, May wrenched the Octoling out with her so fast it would probably get rug burn.

That didn’t matter to May. She was filled with something, a rage, a frustration, an agony that had been growing within her like a cancer for years. Eventually, it was bound to bubble out. Like a pot on the stove with the heat far too high, May forced the Octolings hands to the floor.

“You need to stop!” she screamed, grabbing the Octoling by the tentacles and shaking its head around. Her insides screeched at her, trying to get her to calm down, to force the feelings away like she always did. “Stop! Trying! To! Kill! Me!” With every word, she forced the Octoling’s head another direction. She was like a broken dam, a cracked glass, an erupting volcano, and the flow would not be stopped. “I am trying to _help you!_ But all you do is sit in here, and wait, and attack me! Do you attack the doctors back in Octopolis or whatever you call it?”

The Octoling tilted its head slightly, as though it were looking away.

“Are you even listening to me!? If you don’t attack your doctors, then don’t attack me!” The Octoling turned its head back up. It’s mask caught May’s gaze. She found herself staring at it, reminded only of how frightening the mask was, the slash through it only adding to the horror. _“And take off this stupid fucking thing!”_ May wrapped her fingers around the mask, pulling until the leather that fastened itself around the Octoling’s head snapped from the sheer force. Tossing it against the wall so hard it created a dent, May stared down at the Octoling once more, breathing heavily.

The Octoling stared back with wide, green eyes.

Everything in May left with a woosh. The pent up feelings were recapped and locked away like they were supposed to be. She slumped over, head bent low so that she could barely see the Octoling’s chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. She was close enough to notice the freckles that dappled its pink face, the sideways slits of its pupils, and the flush of its skin.

It blinked once, giving May a look that reminded her of a lost child, and then shut its eyes.

May wondered if she had frightened it.

“Sorry...” she mumbled, “let me just help you up.”

Gently pulling it the rest of the way out, May was surprised when the Octoling did nothing to protest. Instead, it helped her, walking on its blanket-wrapped feet back to the bed and lowering itself with May’s help. It seemed unable to meet her gaze.

“I uh, I brought you food,” May said, “no fish today. Just dried seaweed.”

The Octoling took it with trembling hands, lifting a piece to its pink lips and taking a small bite.

May had definitely scared it. It was probably best that she leave.

“I’m going to just, go now,” she said, turning around. Softly stepping over the fallen wardrobe, she was struck with an idea. “My name is May, by the way. If you need anything, just ask me.” She was met with only silence.

Opening the door with a creak, May began to leave the room. A soft call of ‘wait’ stopped her. She turned around, wide eyed, and met the Octoling’s wavering gaze.

“My name...” it said. It’s voice was soft, reminding May of the wind chimes her old friends would hang on their front porches, peaceful yet erratic. There was a small hint of bitterness within it, the sort of bitterness May often found in her own voice, small enough that only somebody who knew it could catch it. “My name is Lacey.” It (she?) turned away completely, clutching its (her?) shoulders with the opposite arms.

May nodded, “it’s nice to meet you,” she said, and shut the door.

The moment it closed behind her, she sighed, feeling the emptiness she always did once more. At least she had the sofa as a constant companion.

May fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, and for the first time in nearly a decade, slept like the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this. As always, I would love to hear critiques and I love reading all of your comments. Thank you for supporting me thus far as I try really hard to tell this story.


	10. In Which Aaron Needs Better Observation Skills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, this chapter is late. Buuuuuuttttttt it's also a bit longer than normal. I hope you guys like it!

Lacey felt off-balance. It was as though she was walking on a thin tightrope being shaken by something far into the distance, something that she couldn't see. If she reached out her hand, maybe, just maybe she could touch it, but she was too afraid to try.

It had something to do with the Inkling- with May. Lacey just knew it. May had shaken up everything Lacey knew to its core; she had shaken Lacey up to her core. How was she supposed to deal with that? Everything Lacey knew about Inklings was changing. Had the Octarians been wrong? It wasn't right. The Octarians were the supreme leaders. They knew everything.

How could they not know this?

There was a knock on the door. Lacey knew it was May, seeing as she was the only one who ever came in.

Maybe it was only May that was different?

May entered, stepping over the fallen dresser and broken glass she had yet to clean up. Lacey had offered to help, but May had shaken her head, muttering something about getting bedrest. If anything, May was the one who needed bedrest. The Inkling had been on crutches for the past week. She had since lost them, but still moved slowly, wincing at every wrong movement.

Lacey felt oddly ashamed. She had caused May's injures. Back home, she would feel proud about this, have been cheered on for getting a drop on the monstrous inklings. Instead, all Lacey could think about was how much May had to be hurting.

"I brought you food," May said quietly. Things had been like this since May had yelled at her. All Lacey could think about was the expression of rage on the Inkling's face, the loudness of before paired with the quietness of now.

Things were awkward to say the least.

"Th-thanks," Lacey mumbled, taking the plate. She took a bite of the fish, wondering how it somehow managed to be both more and less bland than the rations she ate back home.

There was a dragged on, heavy silence. It seemed to tug Lacey down by her stomach. She glanced at May. Their eyes nearly met.

Lacey looked away quickly, the image of May's warm eyes fresh in her mind. They were a vibrant pink color, warm and caring. Yet something about them seemed dull, defeated. She had seen that look only once before in the eyes of Captain Kelp.

"I uh, I hope you like it," May said. She turned to leave, blue-green tentacles trailing behind her. Lacey simply watched her leave, that off-balance feeling growing ever stronger.

Her hand twitched.

* * *

May sighed, leaning against the wall. The mood in the Octoling’s room when the two were together was stifling, to say the least. May was pretty sure that it- no- she was in no mood to kill her any longer. Now Lacey just lay in there as her injuries finished healing. Soon, she would be finished.

What then? Would Lacey just go, never to be seen again? Would she take secret information with her?

Was May about to cause an Octarian victory?

Or would Lacey keep the Inkling’s base hidden?

May knew immediately that if it were her, she would tell. Anything to give the Inkling’s an upper hand, she would tell.

But was that true for Lacey?

May dwelled on those thoughts as she puttered about the house, for once feeling well rested. Muttering to herself, May checked the refrigerator, groaning when she once again found it empty. She didn’t want to bother Aaron again, but he wasn’t letting her leave her apartment until she was healed.

Already, May could walk. She knew the day would be soon when she could get some actual work done.

Sighing, she flopped onto her sofa. Aaron would probably check on her again today, too. She could ask him then.

A knock rang out in the otherwise quiet apartment. May was about to get up when the door burst open, slamming against the wall so hard it made the already noticeable dent about twice as large.

“May!” Aaron cried, “I have a great idea!”

Allowing herself to grin, May leaned over the side of the sofa. “And what idea is that?”

“Look!” A wrinkled paper was thrust into May’s face. Tentatively grabbing it, May read over the words on the page.

“A tournament?”

“Not just any tournament! The tournament.”

“You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”

“The annual Inkopolis Turf War Tournament! Everyone who’s everyone knows about this!”

“I didn’t know about this at all.”

“I guess I’ll have to explain it then,” Aaron grinned a big, toothy grin, “It’s a tournament where you pick your own teams and compete against other teams from far beyond Inkopolis. Inklings from all over come to test their skill!”

May sat up, a serious look marring her features. “I think I have heard of that.”

A memory buried deep in the back of her mind played itself, like a dusty old movie in black and white.

_“May! May! We should totally do this!”_

_“Do what?”_

_“Go to the Inkopolis Tournament!”_

_“Don... I don’t think we’re skilled enough for that yet. We’re barely old enough to play.”_

_“Well, we have Terra and Gravel too. I’m sure we can make it!”_

_"I don't know...”_

_“Don’t worry May, I’m sure we can!”_

"May?"

"Huh?" May glanced upwards, meeting Aaron's eyes.

"You sort of zoned out there. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Well anyway, do you wanna do it? You'll be fully healed pretty soon, so I figured it would be a fun thing to do."

May thought for a moment. Could she handle something like this a second time? On one hand, she was horrible at Turf Wars. On the other hand, this was a good chance to snatch what little time she could with Aaron before he inevitably left her.

"Sure, I'll do it." A thought occurred to her. "But where are we going to find the other two members?"

"Don't worry, I know a few guys."

* * *

“Where are we going?” May asked as she followed Aaron, shielding her eyes from the harsh sun.

“You’ll see,” Aaron said, stepping over a pothole in the road. They were almost there, now. Turning a corner, he stopped. “We’re here.”

May stared at the cafe that stood in front of them, a disgruntled look on her face. Her eyes wandered over it, taking in the flower covered trellises and the pastel shades that covered the outdoor chairs, before stopping on the menu.

“Aaron,” she said, voice low, “I don’t think I can pay for anything here.”

“Oh don’t worry about it. I always pay when we come here.”

“...we?”

Aaron didn’t get to reply, interrupted by a voice calling his name. Aaron turned, a grin on his face, to envelop his smaller friend in a big hug.

"Gill! Nice to see you!"

Aaron set Gill down so that he could adjust his glasses. Gill was rather short for an inkling, to the point where most everyone towered at least slightly over him. He had tan skin and bright green eyes. Behind him, hands in his pockets, stood Matt. He seemed to be Gill's exact opposite, tall, taller than Aaron, even, his skin pale and his eyes blue. Sometimes, Aaron had to wonder why the two were even friends.

"Sup," Matt said, raising his hand for a high five. Aaron happily obliged. "So you brought the fourth person?"

"Yup! Guys, this is May."

All three turned to May. "Uh," she said, waving sheepishly, "hello?"

"Hi!" Gill chirped, waving back, "Nice to meet you! I'm Gill!" Holding out his hand, Gill gave May an expectant look. Hesitating, May put out her own hand. Gill gripped it tightly, shaking it so hard that May’s entire body rattled.

“Gill, don’t get too excited,” Matt quipped, “you don’t want to scare the newbie.”

“O-oh! Sorry May!” Gill immediately stepped back.

“It’s fine. Let’s just find a seat.”

“Sounds good to me.” Matt grabbed Gill’s hand, and the two turned to go inside. Aaron followed, May once again close behind him. They sat down at a booth, Aaron chatting amicably with the waitress, who knew him as a regular, while she gave them their menus. May opened hers immediately, setting it up like a barrier between herself and Matt and Gill, who sat on the opposite end of the table, Gill settled in Matt’s lap.

“So what do you want?” Matt was asking. Aaron tuned out Gill’s reply, instead reading his own menu. This was one of his favorite cafes. The food was good, and he always ordered something different.

The waitress came back. Aaron ordered scones, Matt and Gill a slice of cake to share, and May a simple cup of coffee. The moment she left, Matt got down to business as Aaron knew he would.

“So May,” he began, looking rather intimidating despite the smaller Inkling taking up space in his lap, “what sort of weapon do you use?”

“Roller,” she said, not quite meeting his eyes, “but I switch around a lot. I’m not really great at any of them though.”

“Bullshit,” Aaron interrupted, “May, I’ve seen you fight. You’re pretty good.”

May was unable to protest as Matt jumped back into the conversation. “I’ll take your word for it, Aaron. A roller, huh? We don’t have a roller on our team, so you’ll be good with that.”

“That’s good then...”

“Well, enough about that stuff,” Matt said, demeanor changing. “What’s up with your life, May?”

“Not much.”

“What do you like to do for fun?”

“I don’t have any interests.”

“Really?” Gill chimed in, “You don’t like to do anything?”

May shrugged. “What sort of stuff do you like to do?”

Oh no.

Gill’s eyes lit up, and Aaron stifled a groan. “I love science!” Gill chirped, “I love to learn how things work! I’m actually studying ink right now-specifically the biological ink created and secreted by us Inklings. I’m doing most of the testing on my own using my own ink as samples but Matt has let me use some of his. I’m trying to figure out what makes it disappear and I’m looking at the actual chemical makeup and consistency and everything. I’m even-”

“Gill,” Matt said quietly, “I think you’re overwhelming her.”

That shut Gill up. “O-oh!” He stuttered, blushing, “Sorry. I just got excited-”

“It’s fine. It’s sort of nice to see someone excited about something anyway.” May’s eyes glazed over, as though someone had covered them with steaming glass. A small smile was just barely spread on her face as she stared at her hands. Then, as quickly as the moment came, it was gone. May snapped back into reality.

The waitress arrived with food soon after. Happily demolishing his scone, he watched May take a hesitant sip of her coffee. Her eyes lit up the moment it touched her tongue, glowing with the amazing taste of this cafe’s food.

“So,” May said after a moment of eating, “how long have you two been dating?”

May had it wrong. Gill and Matt weren’t dating. Figuring they would correct May, Aaron found himself choking on his scone when Gill answered with a simple:

“Almost a year. Our first anniversary is coming up soon.”

“Wha- what!?” Aaron almost couldn’t believe his ears, “you two are-” he coughed, “dating?!”

“Uh... yeah. I thought you knew,” Matt said, “we haven’t exactly been secretive about it.”

“Seriously?”

“Aaron, we literally are sharing a cake. Gill is sitting in my lap. We hold hands all the time- and you thought we were _just friends?_ ”

“I mean, it makes sense when you put it that way, but yeah. I guess I just never noticed.” Well this was a little embarrassing. Aaron always prided himself on being in tune with his friends. If he wasn’t then-

Aaron was pulled from his thoughts by a peculiar sound. Glancing to his right, he had to do a double take.

May’s head was thrown back, her eyes squeezed shut. Her mouth was wide open in a grin, revealed her teeth, and her entire body was shaking. May was laughing.

Laughing.

Aaron had never seen her laugh before.

He gave Matt and Gill an incredulous look. They seemed just as mistified as Aaron was, despite barely knowing May.

After what felt like no time at all, May’s laughter died down. She sat there for a moment, trembling, face still caught in a smile, and then froze. Aaron watched in horror as the smile melted away and was replaced with the opposite. It was the same look May had had on her face the night Aaron had told her his resolve and become her friend. He hated that look. It seemed to mar May’s entire body, weighing her down like a pile of bricks, making her look a thousand times older.

He was going to eradicate that look.

May stood up, sliding from the booth. The bells on the door jingled as May made her way out of the cafe, stopping in the middle of the street. Aaron quickly followed, signalling his friends to give him a moment.

“Are you okay?” He asked, standing next to May.

May gave Aaron a distraught look. “I don’t-” she looked away, “Nevermind. I don’t want to bother you...”

“May, you aren’t bothering me, I promise. You can tell me anything. I’m your friend, I’ll be there for you.”

“It’s just...” May trailed off.

“It’s just what, May?”

May spun around to face Aaron, her hands gripped tightly around her tentacles in a nervous gesture, tugging on them way too much.

“I don’t think I can do this a second time!”  
Aaron was silent for a moment, “I think you can. Matt and Gill don’t bite. I promise. You can do it May, I know you can. Whatever it is that’s weighing you down, we’ll get through it. I promise. Now let’s go inside.”

May nodded, and the two turned to reenter the cafe.

* * *

The train stopped at Inkopolis station, miles away from its original starting point. Stepping of the train, the team could not help but stare in wonder. Inkopolis stretched out in front of them, the busy square filled with Inklings going about their daily lives.

“Well,” said Sandy, a grin on her face as she stared at Inkopolis Tower, “they really do love Turf Wars here, don’t they?” Sandy had dark skin and bright orange eyes. She was the tallest of the group, and their leader.

“That’s why we’re too, isn’t it?” Said the Inkling behind her, his green eyes sparkling, “I can’t believe it. After all this time, I’m going to compete in an Inkopolis Tournament.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Don. We might lose the first battle.”

“Oh come on, Terra.” Don groaned, glaring at his twin, “we’re the best in our county. I’m sure we can at least make it past the preliminaries.”

“I’d say we can go further,” Gravel joined in, “After all, didn’t we come here to win?”

“That we did.” Terra replied. She leaned into her boyfriend’s arms. Don looked away.

“You should get comfy with the PDA.” Sandy told him, “they aren’t stopping anytime soon.”

“Yeah, but I wish they would focus more on the Turf Wars. We’re finally here for a competition. We should be training.”

“You spend too long training. Get some rest or something. Have some fun. We’ve got a week or two to get ready here.”

“I guess. Still, I’m excited. I made it all the way to an Inkopolis Tournament.” Don looked directly into Sandy’s eyes, “And I did it without May.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear they were not supposed to be dating. It crept up on me and suddenly they were doing boyfriend things. This is not the main ship of the story though don't worry.


	11. In Which May Is Happy For Once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like it! Please excuse any errors, this chapter (none of them, in fact) has not been beta-read.

Everything around May felt odd, brighter than before, but not so much that it was overwhelming. It was as though she had grown brighter as well.

She certainly felt lighter, to say the least, and she had it all to blame on Aaron and his friends. They were nice- fun, even, and May really wanted to keep talking to them too. She knew, somewhere within her, that they would hate her later, but she was in too deep to care. She would take what little friendship she could before they left her to fall back into darkness.

May smiled as she picked up the pieces of glass that littered the floor. Lacey watched her warily, but did nothing else. May counted that as a victory. Being careful not to prick herself on the shards, May took the pieces of the trophy and set them on the kitchen table with the rest of the shards. She needed to throw the pieces of her old trophy away.

The sound of the door opening startled her, grabbing her attention from the glass. The front door had not moved. Her bedroom door had creaked open, and Lacey was peeking her head out, one eye covered by her tentacle.

"Can I help you?" May asked, for once able to talk to the Octoling without being nervous.

Lacey jumped nearly three feet in the air with a squeak. For a trained soldier, she was rather jumpy, May had found.

"I uh... I-" Lacey stuttered, looking away. She pushed the door open slightly further, trembling fingers clutching the doorknob so hard that May thought it would be crushed. "May I leave the bedroom?"

"Yeah," May said immediately. "You can go anywhere in my apartment. Sorry. I should have told you earlier."

Lacey opened the door the rest of the way, placing one foot on the carpet, and then another, and then she was standing in May's living room, looking around. May couldn't help but notice her eyes picking up every detail, searching for something, or perhaps getting to know the area. They fell on May, meeting her eyes, and May felt a shiver go through her.

She had not expected that an Octoling's eyes could be so expressive. She had always imagined they would look like copies of the blank masks they wore, cold and unfeeling, but Lacey's eyes felt... unsure. Emotional. Lacey was a living, breathing person, just like May was, with thoughts and emotions of her own.

And May had called her "it."

Filled with guilt, May could almost feel her heaviness begin to return. She forced it back, unwilling to allow it to return. She would make it up to Lacey. 

Too caught up in her thoughts, May almost missed Lacey's nearly silent words.

"This place is so different from home..." Lacey's voice, May had found from their past few conversations (which were limited to about 3 sentences each), was as fleeting as the wind, a brief touch, and then it was gone, already slipping past any measures to capture it. This time, May decided, she would not let it go.

"What is it like?" May asked, "Your home, I mean."

Lacey seemed startled by the question. "It's... well... I-" Lacey opened and shut her mouth a few times, stuttering like a broken recorder before stopping altogether. "Home is like," she nearly whispered, "Home is like flying."

May raised an eyebrow, willing Lacey to go on.

"It's like being part of a flock of birds. We move together- the other Octolings and I- we travel together." Her eyes grew warm, "And we may all hate each other sometimes, but we couldn't live without each other. Everyone does their part to help where they can. We can do things the regular Octarians can't." As she spoke, she seemed to grow bigger, her voice becoming louder, "And we protect our home. We all get together so that none of us are falling. Only ever flying. I know it isn't a perfect place, but it's still my home. It may be dark and cold sometimes, and it may be falling to pieces, but it's my home. It's my home. I miss it."

"That sounds sort of nice," May said.

Lacey nodded, "it is."

There was a silence. May suddenly noticed that the two of them had sat down on May's carpet, their foreheads nearly pressed against each other. They were so close that May could make out every individual freckle on Lacey's face, could see her soft pink skin and lips with intense clarity.

"What about you?" Lacey suddenly asked, "what's your home like?"

May thought for a moment. "Well..."

* * *

The glowing numbers on the clock blinked once as the minute changed from 2:03 to 2:04. They stood out, the only light still left in the otherwise dark room, illuminating Gill’s face as he furiously wrote the answers to his calculations on his coffee stained note-pad. His vision blurred and he blinked.

It was time for another cup of coffee.

Gill stood up, being careful not to let the desk chair screech too loudly on the floor as not to wake Matt. Padding over to the kitchen, he nearly shivered as his bare feet hit the cold tile. Gill could barely keep his eyes open as he switched on the kettle.

Just a few more hours, just a bit more work, and then he would sleep. Not yet, though. He had to finish analyzing his findings from the day’s experiments.

Gill frantically searched the cabinets for the instant coffee, his hands wandering over dishes and cups until finally, _finally,_ his fingers closed around the jar. Pulling it from the cupboard with a triumphant cry, Gill was surprised to find it rather light. Twisting open the lid, he found it completely empty. There was not a single coffee ground left.

Had he really drunk that much?

“You’re still up?” Gill startled, nearly dropping the jar. He set it down on the counter and turned around.

Matt stood in front of him, leaning against their bedroom door. It was obvious he had just been sleeping, which made sense, seeing as he had gone to bed hours ago.

“Yeah. I really need to get this work finished. I’ll probably come to bed in a few hours. You have work to do tomorrow to- you should probably go back to sleep.”

“No.”

“Okay, good night- wait, what?”

“The one who really needs sleep out of the two of us is you, not me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll rest later.” Gill went to return to the desk, but tripped over his own foot, landing directly in Matt’s arms.

“Look, I know this is important to you,” Matt said, “but you really need to sleep. Now come on. Besides, we’re practicing with Aaron and May tomorrow, remember? I don’t think you want to be exhausted for that.”

Matt took Gill’s hand, tugging him gently through their apartment. Gill couldn’t help but follow along, yawning sleepily. They came to the bed they shared. Gill slipped under the covers and was quickly joined by Matt, who snuggled in behind him, wrapping his arms around Gill’s torso.

“Good night...” Gill slurred, closing his eyes.

It took only a moment for Gill to fall asleep, barely registering the kiss pressed to the back of his head.

* * *

They met in front of Inkopolis Tower, May still feeling oddly chipper, and especially happy after talking to Lacey. Matt and Gill arrived together, as expected. Aaron was only slightly late.

“Sorry,” he apologized, bent over and breathing heavily from running, “I had to help clean something up and my shift ran long.”

“It’s fine,” May said, “you aren’t that late.”

“Well anyway,” Matt said, as focused as ever, “let’s go get some practice together.”

The door slid open, allowing the four to walk in, their weapons slung over their back. Carrying Turf War weapons was legal in Inkopolis, so long as you had proper approval and didn’t have an ink tank.

Technically, this made May and Aaron’s work as Agents sort of illegal.

Technically, neither of them cared.

Matt signed them four of them up together for a match- something that was usually not done, except during a tournament like this, where people would want to get together and practice.

May hefted her roller over her shoulder as she made her way to the transport room. It had been a while since she had done any battling at all, so she knew she would be rusty.

In the transport room stood a single pad connected to the spawn point that their team would enter the arena in. The four of them got into position, ready to fight, and turned to squid form, following the intricate network of piping that took them to where they needed to go. Today it appeared to be Flounder Heights, a place May definitely did not have the money to live in.

They spawned quickly, the timer went off, and everyone got down to business. Watching everyone branch out, May quickly did the same, rolling forwards, covering ground until she ran out of ink, then turning to advance on the enemy.

She was in the middle of enemy territory when she realized one of them was coming up behind her. Gritting her teeth, she turned, ready to send large globs of ink at her opponent. Before she knew it, however, he was gone, taken out by Matt’s charger. Sending him a little salute, she continued on her way.

They must have stayed in the arena for hours. May walked out feeling fatigued and tired, but so alive for once.

‘Maybe,’ she thought to herself in the midst of her joy, ‘Maybe I can live like this forever.’ The euphoria of having the three of them near had entered her head, warming her. She thought back to all of them, to their smiles, their jokes. They weren’t even that close to her, and still, she wanted desperately to stay by their sides. Even Lacey, whom she barely trusted at all, flashed in her mind, the image of the Octoling’s soft smile still burned into May’s memory. She wanted to stay with them.

Maybe it could really happen. Maybe, maybe she wouldn’t fuck everything up for once.

A bright smile on her face, she began to run home.

Maybe her life wouldn’t be so bad after all.

She was so caught up in the joy that had taken her over, something she had not experienced in years, that she did not notice the group in front of her, on their way to Inkopolis Tower.

May collided directly with someone, knocking both herself and them into the asphalt.

“Sorry, sorry,” she apologized. On another day, she might have just recovered and continued walking, or yelled. Today, however, she was actually in a good mood.

She looked into the eyes of the person she had sent to the ground, and her good mood cracked, shattering to pieces.

Don sat in front of her, his eyes wide. Everything around May seemed to have disappeared. For a moment, it was as though May were timeless, floating in an empty void, completely alone except for the one thing she never wanted to see again. She could only see his face, so much older, but so much the same as the face of the younger Don who had once hated her. Did he still hate her?

Don’s eyes narrowed, his entire demeanor changing, and May immediately knew that nothing had changed. The world came back into view gradually. May saw Terra and Gravel, her other former teammates, behind Don, and a third Inkling she had never seen before.

May was reminded of why she had been so reluctant to have friends again, and everything became awful once more. The weight that had left her returned a thousand times worse, pulling against her so much she could physically feel it, like a black hole within her, sucking all of the happiness away and leaving her with nothing but rotting, dusty old feelings she had locked away.

“D- Don...” was all she managed to say. But what could she possibly say to him now? What could she say to any of them?

“May,” Don said standing up, his eyes cold, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I- I live here.” May managed to choke out. Her eyes felt heavy and hot, and she knew she was going to cry again if she didn’t get out soon. She had to get out, get away. There was no way- no possible way that she would let any of them see her cry.

Don clenched his hands into fists. His eyes somehow grew even narrower. “Is this where you ran off to, then?”

“...yes...”

“Don,” Terra said suddenly, stepping out from behind him. She was small, beautiful and lithe, with the same tan skin as her brother, although her eyes were brown instead of green. She had been May’s crush, once upon a time. “Where are you going with this?” She gave him a calculating look.

Don scowled, ignoring her, “Are you entering in the tournament, then?”

May began to push herself up from the ground. “Yes.” she answered tersely as her feelings grew worse and worse. She stared at her feet, unable to look at them anymore.

“Hey, look at me!” Don nearly yelled, grabbing May by the front of her jacket and nearly pulling her off of her feet, “look at me when I’m talking to you, you piece of shit.”

“Don- Don!” Gravel yelled, “Calm down, dude.” Don, scowled, but let go of May. As she dropped back to the ground, May couldn’t help but notice the fourth Inkling, the one she had never seen before, simply leaning on her weapon (a charger) and watching the show with an indifferent expression.

“You better not pull any of the crap with your team that you pulled with us, you hear me?” Don said.

“Oh believe me,” May replied dully, “I won’t.” She wanted to run- she had to run- she had to get away from them. Now was her chance, now, while none of them was holding her and while Don was silent.

Pushing Don back, May turned, sprinting down the street towards home, her heart beating heavily in her chest. The tears had been threatening to pour down her face the entire altercation let themselves loose.

As she got further and further away from them, away from Don, the only thought that went through May’s head was: ‘Idiot. As if someone like you could ever keep any friends.’

She sobbed some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not worry, all backstory shall be explained. Eventually.  
> Man this is gonna be a long fic.


	12. In Which May Has Bad Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I just celebrated my birthday today- I had lots of cake. Also, my family just found this fanfiction. If you're reading this right now, parents, because you probably will eventually read this, hi.  
> Anyway, who here is enjoying the update? It was a bit like an early birthday present for me, to be honest.

May leaned against the building, pressing her forehead into the rough brick. Choked sobs racked her body, though her tears had dried up an hour ago. She had barely moved since. Her mind still reeling, her entire being thrown off balance.

She had promised herself, a long time ago, that she would never see Don, never see any of her old friends, ever again. May gave a bitter laugh and slid to the ground. Of course that plan would fail. Nothing May did ever came through in the end- why wouldn't this be any different? With her luck, Don had already somehow met Aaron and was telling him about all the awful things she had done. It wasn't going to matter that May had promised herself she wouldn't do them ever again. Aaron would hate her, and then Matt and Gill would hate her too, and she'd lose the only friends she had.

She had been so stupid into fooling herself for just a moment that maybe, maybe they could stay with her. It was only a matter of time now before everything returned to what it had been.

The wind bit May's cheek as she pushed herself back up. Utterly silent, she began her walk home. The quality of the buildings deteriorated the further May got to her home. She stepped over litter on the street, abandoned bottles, wet newspaper, complete and utter garbage blowing in the wind. The streets were dark and empty. Only an idiot would walk in this part of town in the middle of the night. All sorts of things could happen. Not all of Inkopolis was safe.

It was just May’s luck that she had ended up living in the middle of its danger.

Finally, after what felt like hours alone, May’s run-down apartment building stretched in front of her. The foyer gave the air of a place that had once been nice, with rusting brass doorknobs, a faded, dusty carpet. and an elevator that had been out of order for years.

May turned a sharp left to find the stairs. They squeaked under her feet as she made her way up to her floor. Unlocking her door, May groaned when the stupid thing was stuck again. Just another problem to add to the pile. May rammed into the door, forcing it open to hard it slammed into the wall and immediately came back at her, nearly hitting May in the face.

Coming into the room, the first thing May noticed was Lacey, back ramrod straight, looking like a cornered animal. May hadn't warned her about the door.

"Sorry, sorry!" May said, wincing. She couldn't even take care of a guest right. She was absolute garbage. Even Lacey would notice soon too, and then she'd have lost someone who wasn't even her friend in the first place.

"O-oh, I uh, it's fine I was just, just startled, that's all!"

May sighed, suddenly very tired. "Okay." She said, slipping out of her shoes. Removing her jacket, May dropped onto the sofa. "It's late," she told Lacey after a while, "you should get some sleep.”

"Uh, okay." Lacey nodded, leaving the room, looking rather unsure.

May wanted her to stay, she realized as she watched Lacey's retreating back like an idiot. She didn't want to be alone.

Still, it wasn't like Lacey would be staying for much longer. The Octoling was almost healed. It would probably be a few more days and then she'd be gone. May needed to remember her loneliness, get used to it once more for when everyone left.

She hadn't realized up until now how much she hated being alone.

* * *

Sandy stood atop her perch, staring through the scope of her E-Liter at the battlefield in front of her. The sun had barely risen. Her teammates were still asleep, probably exhausted from the heavy traveling they had all done the other day. But not Sandy. She was already up, having a match with randomly picked teams. Sandy knew she should have been training with the rest of her team, improving their teamwork before the tournament. They needed good teamwork to win, after all, and there was no way Sandy could possibly lose.

The enemy came into range, all four at once. Sandy let loose the ink she had charged.

Splat. Again. Splat. Again. Splat. Again. Splat.

Sandy smirked. This Turf War here was just target practice.

* * *

There was a knock on May’s door.

May groaned, sitting up. Her entire body ached. The sun invaded May’s eyes. Squinting into the light, she stood. The knock on her door came louder, more insistent.

What was the hurry?

Stumbling to the door, May pulled it open, and looked right into the concerned faces of Aaron, Matt, and Gill.

“May?” Aaron asked, “Are you okay? We were supposed to meet today for training two hours ago.”

May gave an unintelligible grunt as a reply and stepped backwards, motioning vaguely with her hand. Aaron seemed to get the message, stepping in.

Filled with nothing but the knowledge that she needed to wake up, May went to her refrigerator, pulled out an energy drink, and downed it in one gulp. It was still as nasty as they always were, tasting like a horrific fusion of the rotten fish May had pulled from a dumpster one cold night and incredibly bitter medicine.

It was, essentially, an abomination of a drink.

A little more awake, May looked into the faces of her friends, and suddenly remembered why she was feeling so awful in the first place.

She wanted to cry again.

Forcing back the emotions, May put on her best poker face. She needed another drink.

May pulled out another energy drink, wincing at the taste, downed it in one gulp, and tossed it into the trash can behind her.

Matt gave her a horrified look. “That stuff is disgusting.”

“Don’t I know it,” May said. Her comment, which should have sounded snarky, came out dull, monotonous. Aaron’s face tensed with worry. He immediately seemed to know something was wrong.

“May?” he asked, “seriously, is something wrong?”

“Everything is fine.”

“It doesn’t sound fine.”

“And who are you to know when I’m upset and when I’m not!?” May slammed her hand on the table.

Aaron stepped back slightly, “May...”

May held a hand to her mouth, already being filled with regret. “Aaron-”

“Okay, now I know you’re upset.”

May looked down in shame, “I’m sorry...”

“Do you want to tell me what the problem is?”

May shook her head. There was no way she could ever let any of them learn about her, and so it would stay secret until their inevitable clash with her old teammates.

She had a few weeks, and she was going to relish them.

“Okay then. I’m sorry you feel so down, May.”

“Yes! Please feel better soon!” chimed Gill.

“Just give yourself some time to feel better,” Matt added.

It was obvious she had worried them.

“Sorry...”

“Don’t apologize,” Matt said, “shit happens sometimes.”

They were all so amazing.

“Thanks,” May said, giving a tiny smile, “Hey, why don’t we go and train for a bit now. I mean, you came all the way here just to get me. Might as well not let that go to waste.”

“Alright then, if you’re up for it.”

They left out the door, all four hand in hand. May wished that it would last forever.

* * *

May’s home was empty when Lacey woke up. That was fine. It was expected, even, as May had always seemed to come in and out- this was normal.

The fact was, Lacey was all alone in a stranger’s house (and what a large home it was, too- far larger than anything an Octoling would be allowed to stay in) with nothing to do. She should have been calmer, but without the tension of an oncoming death, there was nothing to focus on. May was unused to idleness- at home, one was always working. There was no leisure for the Octoling’s.

‘Perhaps,’ Lacey mused,  ‘I should take the time to train my reflexes.’

Lacey had not moved very much in the past however long she had been here, that was true enough. Simple exercise seemed good enough. It would have to be simple, not very hard on her body, however, so as not to damage her nearly healed wounds.

Sitting on the floor, Lacey began to stretch, spreading her legs out and twisting her body. Her mind was slowly beginning to go blank as it always did, except for the thought of May- odd, odd May, everything Inklings weren’t.

It wasn’t right for Lacey to doubt the words of her superiors, and yet here she was, doubting. It was a good thing none of them were here. She would be in so much trouble if they were- would she be demoted squadrons? Or worse, would she be kicked out of the Octoling Corp. all together?

Lacey paled at the thought. Horrible things happened to Octoling’s without work, especially the weak ones. That was why the Octoling Corp. was so great. It gave the Octolings a purpose, and anybody who rejected that purpose was a reject anyway.

Lacey didn’t want to be a reject. She had to get home soon to keep her position. Soon, she would be able to do that, and give her superiors the intel she had found.

Suddenly, May’s face flashed into Lacey’s mind, pale, and full of fear, held down. It had been the moment before Lacey had tried to kill May, only to be interrupted by whatever that thing was.

The thought of betraying May turned Lacey’s stomach unpleasantly. Faced with a dilemma, she pulled from her stretch and leaned back on the floor. There was an oddly shaped stain in the ceiling. It reminded her of absolutely nothing.

On one tentacle, it would be treason not to tell the things she had learned (few as they were), but on another, the very thought of hurting May was...

Lacey still didn’t know how to feel about it, but she sort of cared for May. Even last night, May had come inside looking so broken, and Lacey had wanted so much to help. Why hadn’t she helped? She had tried, but a strange feeling had bubbled up inside her, and she had left without even trying.

Going back into her stretches, Lacey decided that she would make it up to May, somehow. She could postpone leaving a little longer to make sure May was alright. Her superiors would understand if she wasn’t back home as quickly as she could have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe one day I'll let Lacey go outside.  
> Also, I keep forgetting- do I write thoughts in quotations or italics? I can't remember and it's really bugging me.


	13. In Which More Is Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First things first, I want to thank the amazing ReedRGale for offering to be my beta-reader! That's right guys, I've got a beta-reader now! You might know 'em as that guy who writes Nadir, another awesome Splatoon fic you should totally read if you haven't already.  
> Anyway, here's chapter 13!

Lacey was beginning to get a little worried. She knew it was silly- there was no way that Inkopolis was unsafe enough for May to die; was there? It wasn’t as though May had gone out alone to the Octoling Slums or anything.

Or did Inkopolis have something like the Slums? Lacey was suddenly struck with the realization that she knew almost nothing about Inkopolis at all. What sort of a place was it? Loud and bustling like the outer cities, full of Octarians and Octolings going about their lives in darkness? Or orderly like the barracks, where everyone had a place and a job and orders to carry out?

Lacey wished for orders. Orders were easy. You only ever had to do what you were told. There was no need to decide what to do for yourself. In this unfamiliar place, there was nobody to give Lacey orders. What was she supposed to do? How could she help May when she didn’t even know what to do with herself? What use was she to anyone?

May still wasn’t back. She could be dead for all Lacey knew. What did Lacey even know? Nothing. She had no idea what she was doing at all when there was nobody there to give out commands. In the end, all Lacey was able to do was sit there uselessly and wait.

Lacey found herself playing with her bandages. The wrappings on her hands and feet had been removed earlier that day. It was just her torso now, and that was basically healed too. It had taken a while for her internal organs to knit themselves back together, but the work May had done had helped. Lacey reminded herself to thank May once the Inkling returned home.

She found herself wandering around the apartment, finally taking the time to familiarize herself with everything. The paint on the walls was peeling, the furniture was faded, and the scratchy carpet was stained with a dark liquid. The only light bulb that hung from the ceiling was burnt out, making the entire apartment almost too dark to see in.

That was fine. Lacey was used to the dark.

It was an odd place, that was for sure. It was nothing like the stark, uniform grey metal that Lacey had come to associate with home. She actually had a bed of her own instead of a thin pallet inside the barracks. Though it was soft, she missed the feeling of sleeping near all of her fellow squadron members, waking up in a tangle of limbs early in the morning, the casual banter as everyone prepared for the day’s work. It was something she longed to have once more, but she would have to put it off. May deserved her help, after all.

Lacey was sitting on May’s sofa, picking at the lint and fuzz that clung to it, when the door finally opened. May entered the room, a slight smile on her face, and shut the door behind her. The smile took only a moment to fade away. As May leaned against the door, Lacey stood, catching her attention.

“Um...” Lacey found herself at a loss for what to say. She settled on a simple, “welcome back?”

May blinked at her for a moment. “Thanks?”

There was a silence. Lacey bit her lip nervously, mind racing for something to say. She had to talk to May- really talk to her in a way she hadn’t before.

After a moment of panic, Lacey finally blurted, “so I think my injuries are all healed!”

May closed her eyes, a look of resignation on her face. “You’re leaving, then? I can pack you up with some food or something for the-”

“No!”

“What?”

“I uh, I don’t want to leave. Yet.”

“You don’t want to leave?”

“Well, maybe in a few weeks I’ll go but right now, no, I don’t.”

“I thought you missed your home.”

“I miss it a lot, actually. I think about it every day. But I’m not leaving yet. You look like you need something still right now and I,” Lacey looked away, “I still owe you for saving my life.”

Something in May seemed to freeze at that. “So you want to stay because you have an obligation?” She said in an emotionless voice, barely audible.

“No, no!” Lacey blurted out, “I’m staying because you don’t look okay at all!”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means that you came in the other night, looking like the world had just killed you, and I didn’t do anything about it.” Lacey said passionately, fueled by a mixture of worry and regret within her. She sat cross legged in front of May, looking her directly in the eyes. “talk to me. What’s wrong?”

This time it was May who looked away.

Lacey sat back, worried. Perhaps she was being too demanding. Maybe May didn’t feel comfortable with telling her. Doubt creeped back in. Lacey had no place bothering May. But... May was upset about something. If Lacey was going to help the Inkling, she needed to know what was wrong. Lacey would have to press on.  “Y-you don’t have to tell me all of it. This is something that we do in my home sometimes- there are usually more of us, though. We all sit together and share our problems. It helps build trust, apparently, which is why our superiors have never done anything about it.”

May sighed. “Sure, why not. It's not like I've got anything to lose."

The Inking was silent for a moment. The only sound in the room was the air coming in and out of the vents- a small, smooth crackling noise in the background. "A long time ago,” she began, “I did something really, really, bad. And the only people willing to tolerate me got really pissed. They hated me once they found out about it. I mean, it isn't like I didn't deserve their anger but it still-"

May swallowed something back, pulling her knees to her chest. "It still hurt. A lot. So I left. There wasn't anything for me in my old home, so why stay? I came here. I thought I could escape everything."

Laughing bitterly, May continued, "Look out that turned out. My problems just came back up here to bite me in the ass. I had deluded myself into thinking that I was okay and that I would never have to see them again, but my old friends are back and they haven't forgotten anything. They'll ruin everything I have here, I know they will. The worst part is, I deserve it. I deserve to lose my friends again."

Biting her lip, Lacey stared at the floor. "I don't think that's true," she said after a moment, "I don't think you deserve to lose what makes you happy."

"I don't think you understand,” May said with a tone of resignation, “I fucked up. I fucked up big time. I don't deserve a redemption."

"May, you've heard me talk about how much I love my home."

"What?" Confusion showed on May's face. "Well, yeah but-"

"Then you know how much I love it. My home, my people, have done horrible things. It's not a perfect place, but that doesn't make it undeserving of any love." Lacey took May's hands into her own, staring into May's eyes with a serious expression. "Just because you made a mistake doesn't mean you deserve all of the bad things coming your way. It just means that you messed up."

"I..."

"You are allowed to have happiness, May."

There was another silence. May closed her eyes and leaned her head against the door. Her hands had come to curl around Lacey's.

"Lacey?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want you to leave."

"I'm not going anywhere."

May smiled, eyes still closed, and gripped Lacey's hands tighter.

* * *

Commander Kelp picked up the piece of paper that had been placed on her desk and skimmed over its main points before looking up at the messenger and scowled. The messenger had a frown behind his mask. The Commander could tell that he was nervous. As he should be.

“What,” she asked in a condescending tone, looming over him like a predator, “is this?”

“A- a message, sir.”

“Ah, I see. A message.” Commander Kelp stood up, circling around the poor messenger like a shark, hands clasped firmly behind her back. She could see him begin to sweat as his hands trembled. He was cracking under her pressure. There weren’t many who could keep a calm head around DJ Octavio’s right (and left) hand, after all. “And what sort of message is hand-delivered to my desk, without proper channels, containing, what I may add, a political conspiracy?”

“Commander Kelp,” she read from the letter in a mocking tone, “I come bearing good will in these dark times. As you know, DJ Octavio has been most likely eliminated by the enemy. His position is one that needs to be filled, and quickly. I implore you to take his role as DJ to end the political unrest overtaking the Octoling Corp before the Octarians step in.

Do so, and I shall back you with all of the power I have and reward you handsomely, so long as you raise my rank and place me higher in the chain of command in return. You may send messages with me through my trustworthy servant Mallory.

Signed, an ally who wishes to remain anonymous until a deal is made.”

Trying such a thing on the Commander was foolish. Her loyalty to DJ Octavio could not be so easily swayed. He was alive- she was sure of it, and therefore would not allow anyone to take his position until they were truly sure he was dead.

They would have to find him eventually. The Commander was just waiting until the perfect time to send out a taskforce to search for him. Until she was able to, however, it was up to Commander Kelp to fill out his duties as DJ. And that meant weeding out the traitors.

“Mallory, was it?” The Commander stopped, turning to face him. She leaned forwards, grabbing him by the front of the soft, decorated robes he wore that showed his status as a non-combatant.

“Y- yes, sir?” Mallory swallowed audibly.

“It says in this letter that you’re good at keeping secrets. Is that true?”

“I- I have been t- trained not to give information away.”

“I wonder how well trained you really are. Shall we find out?”

“I-”

“The longest it’s ever taken me to squeeze out the information I want is 3 minutes. If you can break that record, I’ll let you go.”

Mallory stepped back towards the door. Captain Kelp was behind him in a flash, slamming it shut behind him, preventing him from leaving. The real fun of the day was about to begin. It was a pity Commander Kelp didn’t keep her tools in her office.

“If you fail,” she added, grabbing him by the tentacle and watching as he froze in place, “you will be sentenced as a traitor along with your master for an attempted conspiracy against DJ Octavio. Although,” she said as an afterthought, “you were only following orders. I shall have to see about your punishment’s severity.”

Mallory gave out a startled cry as Commander Kelp slammed him into the wall. He wasn’t going to last very long, that was for sure. She almost felt sorry for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	14. In Which May Goes Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you ReedRGale for being a great beta!  
> I hope you guys enjoy!

“You ready?” Agent 4 looked May in the eye.

May- Agent 3, nodded. “First day back.” She said, shivering, perhaps from excitement, perhaps from fear. She and Agent 4 stood in front of one of the many rusty kettles that were scattered about Octo-valley.

“Then let’s go kick some Octarian butt!” Agent 4 grinned..

On that final note, they jumped into the kettle, following the ink-filled pipe to their destination.

The Octarians had stolen another zapfish- plain and simple. The two had to get it back. It was the usual business.

It took Agent 3 a moment to notice the gun pointed in her face when they reformed on the other end. She froze, her eyes following the gun down the arm and into the masked face of an Octoling.

“Don’t move,” they said, “or I shoot.”

Quickly, Agent 3 glanced over the area. The Octoling was the only being nearby other than Agent 4. The three of them were on a narrow stretch of land like a bridge connecting a large piece of land to a small one, with nothing on the smaller edge but a sharp drop. Were Agent 3 to walk backwards past the kettle, she would surely fall over the edge and be splatted at the bottom. The force of such a hit would mutilate her before she was fully splatted, and she would probably reform dangerously wrong and close to death. Behind the Octoling were spikes spreading out over the large piece of land in all directions, removing any hope of escape past the Octoling. Agent 3 was reminded of a similar scene from an earlier mission that had ended in Lacey’s impalement. These were those same spikes. Agent 3 couldn’t tell whether to hate them for hurting Lacey or be grateful to them for bringing Lacey to her..

“What do you want?” Agent 3 asked, slowly lifting her hands above her head. She couldn’t help but notice the Octoling even though the panic was slowly taking over her head. They were shorter than Lacey, pudgy in places where Lacey was thin. Their hands, surprisingly, were shaking, as though they were afraid.

What were they afraid of? Agent 3’s gaze travelled further down the Octoling’s arms. It was then that she noticed the splotches of fuschia resting against pink skin. They trailed out from the Octoling’s gloves to under their armor and down across their whole body. They had not even finished growing, Agent 3 realized in a moment of clarity. They were a child.

“Be quiet!” yelled the Octoling. Talking to Lacey had changed the way Agent 3 heard the Octolings, and through the inflections in their voice Agent 3 was just able to hear the Octoling’s voice cracking and stuttering.

“I just want to know why I’m at gunpoint.”

“Isn’t it obvious!? You’re stealing from us! I- I’m here to catch you and take you in!”

“How about no.” Agent 4 growled, glaring. He pulled a splat bomb from behind his back and dropped it.

The Octoling stepped backwards but stopped at the spikes. Suddenly, the memory of Lacey being impaled flashed through Agent 3’s mind. Without thinking, she jumped in front of the Octoling, grabbing them before the timer went off and blew them into the spikes as she knew it would.

The Ink exploded against Agent 3’s back. The force of the ink hit her hard, though Agent 4’s coordinated ink color did little to harm her. She turned, tossing the Octoling to the bit of ground that wasn’t spiked, and put the barrel of her own gun in their face.

“How did you find this entrance?” she snarled. A strange yet familiar feeling took hold of her, twisting around her stomach and pulling tight.

The Octoling bit their lip and swallowed. Suddenly, Agent 3 was able to place the feeling as guilt. It had been a while since she had felt it so raw before, instead of the dull pain that she carried with herself everywhere.

“I-”

“Answer the question!” Agent 4 yelled. Agent 3 winced.

“I- I just figured that you... you had to be getting in somehow. So I went, I went... I went to one of the older kettles. Everyone thinks they’re bro- broken but I wasn’t so sure and I checked and it wasn’t so since I’m on guard here I p- pointed my gun and, and you guys popped out so I-”

“Did you tell anyone else what you were doing?” As Agent 4 pressed on, Agent 3 began to feel sick. The Octoling was afraid of something alright. Them.

“No... I’m supposed- supposed to be patrolling so-”

Agent 4 clicked his gun once. The Octoling flinched.

“Please don’t hurt me! I promise I won’t tell anyone about this kettle,” the Octoling sobbed, “I promise! Just please don’t hurt me!” Agent 3’s chest grew tight.

“Alright,” Agent 4 said, “I won’t hurt you. But she will.”

Agent 3 did nothing. Agent 4 gave her an expectant look.

“Now’s when you splat it and send it back to its spawn point,” Agent 4 said under his breath.

Agent 3 nodded. She went to splat the Octoling, knowing full well that they would not die. They hadn’t been impaled, and Lacey had told her just the other day that Octarians had spawn points too. Still, her hands did not move.

“Agent 3?” asked Agent 4. Then, with a look of concern he added, “May? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just fine.” Closing her eyes, she pulled the trigger, reminding herself they were at least unharmed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it May,” Agent 4 reassured, “It was only an Octoling.”

Agent 3 saw it now, Agent 4’s odd hatred for everything Octarian. It seemed a little irrational to her now, the way he was so kind and caring for Inklings, yet he seemed to go out of his way to hate Octarians. He could never meet Lacey, that was for sure. That was something else that Agent 3 would have to keep secret from him.

The two made their way through the cave slowly. At every turn, Agent 3 found herself hesitating to attack. They were just doing their jobs. It wasn’t like a Turf War, where getting splatted was part of the experience, or like they were actively trying to invade Inkopolis. From what Agent 3 got from Lacey, they just wanted the zapfish.

Agent 3 could never fully forgive them for stealing from the Inklings, but at the same time, she was beginning to understand why they were stealing. Looking around, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. The lights were dim and the cave cold, there were hardly any floating buildings. They no longer had the power to keep the caves working. Zapfish were the only solution, and as far as Agent 3 knew, there were no other nearby sources of them except for the Inklings.

Agent 3 nearly sighed in relief when they made it to the end. She wasn’t sure if she could have lasted another minute.

They delivered the zapfish to Captain Cuttlefish.

“I’m just gonna deliver this back then,” the Captain told them. “Any of you kids wanna join me?”

“Sure!” Agent 4 smiled, removing his gear and transitioning back into Aaron. “You coming, May?”

“No,” May said, “someone needs to put our gear away, and I guess that’ll be me.”

Aaron frowned, “Okay then.”

“Glad to have you back, Agent 3,” Captain Cuttlefish smiled, “you really scared us when you collapsed like that.”

“Glad to be back,” May said, taking Aaron’s gear. “I’ll see you tomorrow for practice, right Aaron?”

“Right! Bye May!”

“Bye!” May waved until the two left through the grate. Then she sighed, frowning, and put the uniforms in Cuttlefish’s shack, stepping between zapfish plushes (for training) and some old weapons. Placing the gear in its spot on the table, she left the shack in her normal clothing, ready to go home. The thought of talking to Lacey again brightened her day.

Still, continuing this job was going to be harder now that she saw her opponents as people. The thought was terrifying.

“You there. Girl.”

A voice? May looked around, but saw no one.

“Behind you.”

May turned and looked directly into the eyes of DJ Octavio.

“Come here.”

May, caught by his intense gaze, found herself obeying.

“Yes?”

“What are your intentions with the soldier you took?”

He had to mean Lacey. “She was injured, so I took her to heal her. That’s all.”

“Why should I trust you?”

May shrugged, “I don’t know. But I don’t mean to hurt Lacey. There is no way I would ever forgive myself if I hurt Lacey.”

“I won’t believe you until I see her for myself.”

“I don’t know if I can get her over here without being caught.”

“I don’t care how you do it. I need to see her. If you won’t bring her for me, then bring her for her own sake. If you really care about her-”

“I do.”

“Even after she nearly killed you?”

“How do you know about that?”

Octavio sneered, “You came to work severely injured and I know for a fact that all of my soldiers are capable of killing. It was not a hard assumption to make. I would have rather you died then. I could have let you die then. Instead, I made sure Cuttlefish and his granddaughters knew how to save you. You owe me. So I’ll say it again; let me see her.”

May was silent for a moment, “...okay. I’ll try.”

“Good. You’d better bring her here soon.”

“I’ll do my best.” May said, turning to leave with a yawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens. Again.


	15. In Which Lacey Pays Someone A Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank ReedRGale for being my beta-reader, as always. And also Jack the anon who drew really nice fanart which I should probably post the link to. If it's okay by them, that is.  
> This chapter is dedicated to the fact that I am getting really tired of the way I'm structuring my chapter titles. I might change it next arc.

Lacey pulled May’s sweater further over her shoulders, glancing wildly at the streets as the Inkling lead her through the sleeping city. Lacey had been worried someone would see her, but May had reassured her, saying that nobody was ever out so late at night in the lower half of Inkopolis. They were either at home or inside somewhere, probably partying.

Outside, the air was cool and fresh compared to the stuffiness of May’s apartment or the musty corridors of the caves Lacey had grown up in. The night was cool. A breeze tickled her skin and she shivered. Grey buildings towered above  them, their windows dark except for a few lights.

The sky was disappointingly barren. Lacey had hoped to see the stars for real, instead of pictures on the display screens that lined the edges of the caves, but they were absent, as if somebody had covered them with a thick, dark blanket.

Octolings very rarely got to leave the caves, and never for anything other than a mission. Though this, she supposed, was sort of a mission.

“He really wants to talk to me?” Lacey asked for probably the thousandth time.

“That’s what he said. I would have refused but I’m thinking you might want to see him too? He is your leader after all.”

Lacey nodded. “After his battle with the Fifth Great Octoweapon against the Inkling army, he went missing. The entirety of the Octarian army is in political turmoil now without him there to guide us.”

May was silent for a moment, before she said, “army?”

“Yes.” Lacey said, wondering why exactly May was confused. “They took out all the Great-Octoweapons one right after the other. I assume you were a part of that, right? Aren’t you in the Inkling army?”

The sudden thought that technically, Lacey and May were enemies hit the Octoling like a punch in the gut. They were supposed to be fighting each other. Her superiors would be outraged that she had befriended an Inkling, tentative though that friendship was.

“Um... yeah. I guess I am in the army.” May said quietly.

The two turned down into an alley and stopped at the end, where a high brick wall stood, separating them from the other end of the alleyway.

Turning to Lacey, May spoke. “The entrance to Octo-valley is close now, but we have to go through a heavily populated area. I can’t let anybody see you- obviously because well,” she gestured to Lacey’s tentacles. Lacey nodded in agreement. May removed an empty backpack from her shoulders and set it on the ground in front of Lacey. “I’m sorry you have to squeeze in here, but it’s the safest way to get you through.”

“Okay,” Lacey said, making the transition into an Octopus. May placed her inside the bag and slung it over her back.

“Hold on,” May said. “I don’t want you to fall out.” She reached over, pulling the zippers up just slightly.

May stepped backwards, took a running start, and pushed herself up the wall. Grabbing the edge, she vaulted herself over to the other side.

Through the hole in the bag, Lacey could see a large plaza. Though it was night, it was filled to bursting with Inklings of all sorts. Lacey was reminded of the chaos of the lower city, of the filth of the slums where reject Octolings lived. Yet somehow, this was different than that.

The chaos seemed to fit right in, and after a moment, Lacey realized it was not chaos at all, but simply variability. Inklings all had different tentacle colors. Lacey had tried to rank them once. Now, after seeing May come home every day with her tentacles a different color, Lacey realized it meant nothing. She was struck then, by how different they all were. By how different they were allowed to be.

“We’re almost there,” May said as she walked calmly through the plaza. Lacey could barely hear her over the chatter of the Inklings. Suddenly, they came to a stop, kneeling in front of a grate. “We just have to swim through this.” Putting the bag down, May changed to a squid as Lacey slipped from the backpack, and the two fell into the grate.

Swimming was slow going. Their ink, unable to sync, clashed against each other, slowing them down. They resurfaced on the other end only a few moments later, shocked at how fast they had travelled together.

Lacey took a good look at Octo Valley. Grass and dirt were spread out in front of her. There was a shack near the two of them that looked as though it could crumble any second. Across from it stood a rather lonely looking tree. There was a direct drop down into the pit of Octo Valley from there. Lacey shuddered at the thought of falling. It was an adventure she didn’t want to have. May led her past the sleeping form of an old man and to the globe that contained DJ Octavio.

When Lacey stopped in front of it, she slipped down to one knee and with a fist over her heart, lowered her head. DJ Octavio was awake. Even though her eyes stared only at the dirt on the ground, she could feel his piercing gaze upon her. She wondered what his orders would be.

“You may rise,” he said, and Lacey stood, back straight as a rod. It was at this time that she got her first look at him. He was in his Octopus form, though his headdress remained balanced atop his crown. His eyes were deadly sharp, and they focused on her.

Lacey had never seen him like this. In the Octoling corps she only ever saw him from far away. She had never gotten a high enough rank to even be in the same hallway as him, let alone talk to him.

May leaned against the shack, watching the two of them with narrowed eyes. It made sense that she wouldn’t trust the two together, but it hurt. Did she really think that Lacey would try and betray her now? There was no way she could after they had already grown so close.

“Soldier,” DJ Octavio ordered, “Report on the last month.”

“I was injured, sir, when I fell onto some of the spikes we started placing around zapfish recently. May took me home and cared for me, and I-” Lacey was suddenly filled with guilt. She had tried to kill May- she had not succeeded, but she had tried.

“Continue.”

“Sorry sir! I attempted to kill May, but failed, and since then we have begun to talk and grow closer. That is all, sir.”

“Closer, huh?” Octavio mused. He closed his eyes as if deep in thought for a moment.

Lacey felt a bead of sweat drip down her forehead. What if he didn’t allow Lacey to continue her friendship? What would she do?

After a moment, the DJ  uncrossed his tentacles, “I’ll allow it.” He glanced into the darkness, “but do not let it get in the way of your loyalties. Dismissed.” With that, he closed his eyes, crossing his tentacles once more, and leaned against the side of the globe.

“Well,” said Lacey to break the silence, “let’s head home.” She didn’t think about how home was starting to mean more than the Octarian Caves.

May blinked, “Good idea.” She took Lacey’s hand (a gesture that was slowly becoming more common between the two of them) and as they walked to the grate, the Octoling glanced at the sky. In the dark, so far away from the city, She could see the stars littering the blackened sky.

It was beautiful.

* * *

The sound of footsteps echoed through the streets as a boy sprinted down the sidewalk, his abnormally long tentacles trailing behind him from where he had pulled them back. His brown eyes were narrowed in determination, his tan fingers clenched tightly into fists.

Pushing through groups of Inklings, he ignored any obstacles in his way until he stopped, suddenly, in front of a cement building. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself before marching towards the door. Had it not been automatic, he would have slammed it so hard the glass would have shattered into a thousand little pieces..

He stomped up to the front desk of the office and stood there, glaring at the receptionist chatting on the phone. She glanced up, noticing the filthy boy standing awkwardly in front of her, looking utterly out of place in such a pristine lobby. Uttering a quick goodbye to whoever it was she was speaking to, she replaced the phone on its receiver.

The receptionist gave the boy an appraising look, and said with a smirk on her face“My my Anthias, what are you doing here so late, and not even in your uniform?”

“Shut up. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slacking off all the time, Serrani.”

“At least I have the sense to arrive to work without looking like I just walked into the middle of a Turf War.” Serrani inspected her makeup in a compact mirror. “ _Was_ it a Turf War this time? Or should I tell mother you’ve been getting into the underground fighting rings again?”

Anthias scowled and slammed his hands on the table. “Let me see General Cyprin.”

“Not when you look like that.”

Anthias was covered in bruises, his lip torn and his left eye blackened. His nose was still bleeding slightly from when he had been punched in the face, and he brought a hand up to wipe away the blood, not even wincing at the pain.

“Let me in! I have something urgent to report and it can’t wait!”

“And what exactly is that?”

“I’m not going to tell you! Just let me up!”

“No. You’ll have to either schedule an appointment or approach him during training.”

“There’s no time for that!” Anthias groaned.

The ding of the elevator distracted the two from their argument. When the metal doors slid open, a rather tall man stepped out. There were dark, heavy bags under his eyes. In one hand he clutched a paper cup of coffee with no lid, and in the other he held a briefcase. He wore a military uniform with a disheveled tie and his cap was slanted on his head. His jacket was open, revealing an untucked shirt. He walked with the casual demeanor of somebody completely bored with his existence. The man attempted to scratch his face, still balancing the cup in his hand, but the coffee in it spilled out onto the floor. Staring at it with an expression of great annoyance, he muttered a few choice words unbecoming of someone of his status under his breath.

“General Cyprin!” Anthias walked up to the man and saluted. Behind him, Serrani groaned.

General Cyprin blinked. “Anthias? What are you doing here so late?”

“I have urgent news!” Anthias exclaimed.

“Are we under attack?”

“Well,” Anthias paused, “No!”

“Then whatever it is can wait until the morning.”

“But sir! This could mean war!”

General Cyprin rubbed his temple and sighed. “Fine. What is it?”

“An Octoling. In Inkopolis. I saw it running down the street.”

General Cyprin stared at Anthias. The room was utterly silent. Suddenly, he burst out laughing. “Oh- oh that was great! I never knew you were the joking type!”

“But it’s the truth sir! I saw an Octoling in one of the poorer districts with an Inkling.”

Wiping a tear from his eye, General Cyprin stopped laughing. He stared at Anthias. The clock ticked in the background as he waited for a punchline that never came. “Wait.” he said incredulously, breaking the awkward silence. You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes sir.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Anthias waited for General Cyprin to continue.

“Well then,” General Cyprin cleared his throat, “I’m going to have to tell you honestly. I think your claim is a load of shit. If you want me to believe you, you’ll have to find me real evidence of the Octarians being up to something. But they aren’t.”

He began to walk to the doors, but stopped after a moment, “Hey, why don’t you go talk to Captain Cuttlefish sometime? That quack’s just as paranoid as you are about the Octarians. Maybe you can search for evidence together.” He joked. “I’ll see you for training tomorrow.” The sound of the automatic doors sliding open and shut marked his exit. The lobby was utterly silent.

Serrani burst out laughing, “That was priceless! I wish I had taken a video of that!” She laughed so hard she choked on her own spit.

Anthias _seethed_. He stood there for a moment, staring down at the Inkling Army’s insignia that rested on the floor, and then walked to the door, leaving without a word.

He had an Octoling to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking you guys might have some questions at this point, like; where's Aaron? Where are Matt and Gill? What about May's backstory? How many plots is this story going to have anyway? Well I can tell you the answers.  
> Eventually.  
> For now though let's celebrate because Lacey finally went outside. *throws confetti*


	16. In Which A Problem Is Resolved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, to ReedRGale for the awesome beta-ing.  
> I had some witty comment I was going to make here, but I lost it now. In the mean time, look at this super awesome fanart that Jack the Anon made WITH color! I love it so much thank you Jack the anon for your art.  
> https://41.media.tumblr.com/2dfe6c0f117750e4315457cefde0eed7/tumblr_nz0z6xzxIL1ra86too1_1280.png  
> I don't know how to embed this in text as a link or I totally would.

The Tournament was growing ever closer, and with it came rushing back the thought of May’s old teammates. She had nearly forgotten about them, but as the days sped by, the memory of their confrontation had sucked in May’s attention, invading her thoughts like a tumor. Still, she tried to enjoy each day with her friends that she could, making as many memories as possible. Whether May deserved it or not, Aaron, Matt, and Gill would leave.

A hand clapped against her shoulder. May looked up at Aaron, who stood next to her, grinning widely. “One more round of practice today, and then we should all go out to eat.”

“Sure,” May smiled as she went to stand on the spawn point, wondering which area it would take them to.

They spawned quickly at Flounder Heights, the apartment complex that was ridiculously expensive but probably losing value due to the number of Turf Wars that were taking place there.

She ran with her roller off to the right, taking the narrow path to the lawn. Already, she could see ink of the opposing team’s color splattering there, a light pink falling in puddles over her own cyan. Someone was on one of the grates that hung overhead with a brush, swinging it rapidly.

May, determined not to get caught up in her opponent's range, instead chose to splatter ink on the wall and join them on the grate. If all went well, she would surprise them. If not, well, there would be trouble.

Swimming up the wall and landing lightly on the grate, May swung her roller back, determined to splat them from far away.

It was then that the inkbrush user turned. May’s world stopped as she looked him in the eye, feeling like a small child caught stealing candy.

Frozen in place, but with anger in his eyes, staring straight back at May, was Don.

May wanted to scream. She had expected to see him again eventually, but this was ridiculous. She didn’t want to lose her friends yet. She was supposed to have at least another week. Yet here was Don, her ex-best friend standing in front of her.

A sudden thought struck May. If she had met up with Don, that meant the rest of her old team was there as well. Suddenly, she felt very, very sick.

“May,” Don said icily.

“D- Don,” May forced out, attempting to sound composed.

Don jerked his inkbrush over his shoulder and stared her down. Neither moved.

All May could hear was the sound of Ink being sprayed in the background as her friends- her soon to be former friends, got splatted. Don’s team was incredibly advanced, she could tell. There was no hope of beating them, especially with May pretty much down for the count.

A sudden, very familiar, and very incessant pinging noise shattered the silence. May jumped, startled and looked over her shoulder. She wanted to cry when she saw three different glowing markers that showed off landing points. The idiots were superjumping to her.

May tried to move, to splat him now before they saw, but her hands refused to budge. All they did was tremble uselessly on the handle of her roller. Her friends were going to meet Don. There was nothing, absolutely nothing she could do about it.

May felt even sicker. She fell to her knees, covering her mouth with her hands, as Aaron, Matt, and Gill, landed behind her.

Don did nothing. He simply watched, still looking as pissed as he had before, as her teammates took in the situation.

“May?” Aaron asked first, “Are you okay?”

May found she couldn’t answer verbally. She was pretty sure if she did, she would actually throw up. Instead she shook her head, pressing it against the cool wall of the apartment complex.

“So you’re May’s new teammates, huh?” Don interrupted.

This was it then. Friendship had been fun while it lasted.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Matt bristled.

“Someone who knows what kind of a person this one is.” He pointed to May with his thumb, a vaguely nonchalant air about him, sharply contrasting with the overwhelming anger he had acted with the other day.

“What? What do you mean?” Aaron asked.

“Let’s just say that she and I have a history.”

“History?”

“You mean she never told you about me? Her childhood friend?”

Gill looked back and forth between Don and May. “You two don’t seem very friendly.”

“You’re right. We aren’t.” Don said.

Here it came. Any second now, Don was going to tell them everything awful she had ever done. May squeezed her eyes shut and waited for it, for the roaring accusations, the awful truth, the loneliness, the bitter, bitter, horrible loneliness.

And then the timer rang.

Three minutes had passed. The Turf War was over, and their conversation had been interrupted. Don turned and leapt off of the grate, probably to return to his teammates.

May remained trembling on the grate, hunched over, her stomach in turmoil, until three pairs of gentle hands slowly lifted her to her feet and led her away.

* * *

Aaron felt very lucky that he had bought an apartment in Flounder Heights. As soon as Judd had calculated the results (a huge, huge loss for them as they had stopped inking turf halfway through the match), the four of them had left.

As Aaron unlocked the door to his apartment and helped to carry May inside, he wondered just what had happened. Was she okay? What sort of history did the two of them have? Why did he seem to hate her so much? Would Aaron need to punch him in the face?

They set May down on his expensive leather sofa and placed a pillow under her head. She stared, unblinking, at Aaron’s flat screen TV. He wondered if he needed to turn it on for her. Would it help? Would anything help? Aaron looked to Matt and Gill, but they seemed even further out of their depth than he was. It struck Aaron how useless he was being. He had to help May.

Suddenly, May shot up, eyes wide, breath heavy. Aaron wondered if she had fallen asleep and had a nightmare, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Where’s your bathroom?” She asked, frantically. Aaron pointed to a door across from his coffee table and watched as May stumbled inside in an instant and collapsed over the toilet.

She heaved, once, twice, and then doubled over. Vomit spilled from her mouth.

May’s tentacles had slipped dangerously close the bile. Aaron, unsure of what else he could even do, followed May to his bathroom and knelt beside her. He held her tentacles back as she wretched over the toilet.

They spent quite a while like that, May and Aaron in the bathroom, Matt and Gill pacing around outside.

Matt disappeared for a while and came back with a cool drink and one of the many pills Aaron kept for nausea.

Once May had calmed down enough to move away from the toilet, she accepted the drink and pill without a fuss and took it without hesitation. She stood up, flushing the foul smelling bile away and returned to the sofa. Aaron followed, but took the metal wastebasket from the bathroom and placed it next to her, just in case.

Matt, Aaron, and Gill sat in a circle around May, spread out over Aaron’s living space. May stared at them with a blank but tired expression.

“Are you feeling better now, May?” Aaron asked.

“No.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s okay. I just want you to know that we’re here if you need us. Would you like to do anything?”

May shook her head. The apartment was silent except for the distant sounds of a turf war and the hum of the fan overhead.

Suddenly, May broke that silence. “His name is Don,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper. “We used to be best friends.”

“Then what happened?” Gill asked, “Why aren’t you anymore?”

“I fucked up. That’s why.”

“I’m sure-”

“Don’t try and tell me it wasn’t that bad. It was.” She buried her face in her knees. “I ruined everything.”

“Do you want to tell us?” Aaron said, “again, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

May was silent. “I might as well.” She said. “You’re bound to find out anyway.”

The atmosphere was silent but apprehensive as everyone waited with baited breath for May to speak.

“We- we were going to do a Tournament. We were just barely old enough but we were going to do it anyway. I thought we would lose for sure. No- I knew we would lose. But Don wanted to win so badly.” She stopped, as though caught in a memory. Aaron tapped her on the shoulder. She blinked out of her daze and continued, droning through her experiences like she was reading from a teleprompter.

“I didn’t want to see him upset. I hated to see him upset. He was so happy, all the time back then. And then I ruined it, just like that.”

“What did you do?” Matt asked.

“I cheated.”

The room was silent.

May continued. “It wasn’t hard. This wasn’t a very big Tournament. All I had to do was get a weapon inspected and approved, and then change its core to a more powerful one with a wider range and a more intense shot.”

“You’d think it wouldn’t do much, but it helped a lot, and it’s not noticeable unless you look hard. It helped so much that we won, and now I wish it hadn’t helped at all. We won the stupid tournament and I was so happy for Don that I forgot to change the core back.”

“Did they find out?” Gill leaned forwards expectantly.

“Of course they did. Someone noticed eventually that my ink was travelling further than it should have, and after we got the trophy, they inspected my roller. That was the end of that. I was caught red handed.”

“You were so young though, right? You probably didn’t understand the severity of what it was you were doing.”

“Oh I knew alright.” May’s voice had grown hoarse. “I knew exactly what I was doing, and I still did it. Don was so pissed at me. He yelled for hours and hours because we had to give up the trophy and I just sat there and let him.”

“Terra and Gravel stood next to him and hated me silently, but Don had been my first friend and he was hurt the most. I thought I deserved whatever punishment I got. I was angry at myself- not for getting caught, but for even trying in the first place.”

“So I didn’t move until Don had yelled himself hoarse, and by then I had built up enough frustration to run. I ran from his house and I never looked back.”

She stared at her feet, as though expecting something. Aaron simply stared at her, unsure of how to react.

“Well?” she said after a moment, “aren’t you going to kick me out now?”

“What? Why would I do that?”

“Because now you know what a horrible person I am. Why would you want to stay friends with me?”

“I can tell you now that none of us care about your mistakes. You’re our friend. The rest doesn’t matter.”

Aaron wrapped his arms around May. She froze in shock. Matt and Gill took their chance to join the tender embrace as May stared at the ceiling, eyes wide.

“But I-” she stuttered, “I- I lived on the streets. I was a pickpocket- I stole things- I shoplifted, all the time before I realized how awful I was being. Why do you-”

“We don’t care,” someone said. Aaron wasn’t sure who, and he didn’t think it mattered. The message came from all of them.

“I’m dangerous. I’ve been arrested before. I spent time in jail before I got my apartment.”

“We aren’t leaving you, May. There’s no possible way we could leave you after this.” Aaron said, wrapping his arms tighter around her.

Tears dripped down May’s face. She smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws confetti* It's about time.  
> EDIT: I'm sorry to say this, but I won't be able to release the next chapter by the usual time. It's going to be a bit late, but I'll probably update it next Sunday, or maybe sometime in the next week if I can manage it. Thank for your patience! I'll try to get it out soon.


	17. In Which Lacey Tries Something New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Finally, after a hiatus that was far too long for my liking. Sorry for the wait, guys. Hopefully I can get back to weekly updates.  
> At any rate, take this chapter which was really fun to write once I got into it.  
> Thanks again to ReedRGale for beta-ing, as usual. And thank you for all of the comments! They're always so helpful in motivating me. I'll probably go reply to some of the ones I haven't replied to yet once the chapter is posted.

Lacey could not bring herself to calm down. She had been pacing in a circle around May’s sofa for the past hour or so, showing signs of stopping.

DJ Octavio was allowing their friendship. He was  _ allowing their friendship.  _ What did that even mean? She had expected anger. She had expected talk of an escape plan, or orders, or... something.

He had given her nothing except approval. Now, after it was all over, she could only wonder at what he had meant. It was a commonly known fact that DJ Octavio hated the Inklings the most of all the Octarians. He was one of the few still alive who remembered the horrible things they had done during the Great War. 

What was he doing? Would he ask to see her again? So many questions, so few answers. What was Lacey supposed to do?

She finally stopped in her pacing, only to turn and begin to walk in the other direction. Her questions meant nothing in the long run. For the moment she had no answers for them. She could do nothing but wait for DJ Octavio to contact her again.

Lacey wondered how many rules May had broken to allow them to speak. How many was she breaking now to keep Lacey safe?Far too many, probably. This was treason. Were this to happen the caves, she would have been executed.

And then the thought struck her. Lacey was committing treason just by staying with May. It explained why DJ Octavio had said nothing of leaving. She was already fraternizing with the enemy. It was far too late for her.

There was no way she could ever go home now.

Lacey had to sit down to process the thought. Her head spun. 

She could never go home. Home meant death. It meant a life as a fugitive.

Perhaps she was already considered dead. It had been quite a while since she had first left, after all. She wondered what had changed in her absence. Which of the generals was the new DJ now with Octavio gone? Who had taken her place in her squad with Lacey gone?

“What are you doing sitting in here with the lights off?” Lacey heard.

She turned to the source of the voice to see May, standing in front of the door, a bag in her hands and a finger on the lightswitch. She flipped it on and Lacey winced.

“Just thinking.” Lacey said after a moment.

“About what?”

_The fact that I think I might be here forever,_ she thought _._ _I can’t leave now. Even if I wanted to._

“Home.” she said absently, pressing the thoughts down. She would stay until May got tired of her and then she would go.

_ But where to?  _ She thought,  _ I have nowhere to go. _

May put the bag on the counter and sat down next to her. She seemed happier than she had in the morning, like a great weight had been pulled from her shoulders.

“You wanna talk about it? That usually seems to help with things.”

Lacey shook her head. “It’s not important.”

May sighed. “I won’t push you then. Anyway,” she said, standing up and making her way to the counter, “I got something for you to eat that isn’t sliced fish!”

“You didn’t need to do that! I’m fine with whatever rations you can spare.”

“But I wanted to do this.” May pulled a cardboard box from the bag and tore it open. “I got you crabbycakes!”

“Crabby...cakes?”

“I used to eat them a lot when I was little,” May said with a fond smile, “The microwavable ones were pretty easy to make. I don’t see why they can’t be easy now.” She beckoned for Lacey to join her. “Come on over!”

Lacey was hesitant at first. Something within her told her that being close to May was a bad idea. She was beginning to doubt it mattered, however. What was the point of trying not to get too close if she already could not return home anyway? Lacey stood up and moved to the counter.

May’s odd cheer turned out to be infectious. Lacey found herself watching closely as May pulled two frozen balls from the box. She placed both onto a plate and shoved it into a metal box Lacey was pretty sure was a microwave. She had never been a part of the kitchen staff, so she had never seen one up close.

It seemed odd that May just happened to have something so rare.  _ She must,  _ Lacey figured,  _ be a rather high ranked soldier to have something like that.  _ Or were such appliances common among the Inklings?

Lacey watched as May shut the door. She payed special attention to the buttons that May pressed, taking note of the one that sent the microwave springing to life with light and noise. The crabbycakes circled inside of it. Lacey stared at them, mesmerized. May giggled.

“I take it you’ve never seen a microwave in action before?”

Lacey shook her head. “I was designated the job of soldier, not cook. This is entirely new to me.” She squeaked at the microwave’s sudden beeping noise. Her face flushed with embarrassment at May’s laughter, yet she felt pride at having been able to garner such a reaction. Her face was scrunched up, her body shaking with silent tremors.

May looked cute when she laughed. Lacey wanted to see her laugh again. 

May opened the microwave and went to grab the plate. She had barely laid a finger on it before she was recoiling back with a small cry of pain. “I forgot how hot these plates can get. It’ll need a moment to cool before we can eat our crabbycakes.”

“I don’t mind waiting.” Lacey said. She turned to May, not expecting to meet the Inkling’s eyes head on, yet there they were.

May was smiling at her, a smile overflowing with warmth and affection. It was such a shock to Lacey to see such an expression on May’s normally guarded face that it became the only thing she was able to focus on. The sound of sizzling from the steaming crabbycakes seemed to fizzle into background noise and the rest of the apartment faded into a blur as Lacey noticed everything about May.

Her eyes drank in May’s skin, vaguely flushed, and followed the path of her mask to May’s crooked nose. From there she glanced downwards to May’s lips: bloody, cracked things that had probably been bitten one too many times. Her gaze then trailed upwards, past May’s soft sunset eyes to her smooth tentacles. Lacey almost lifted a hand, almost touched the base of one of May’s tentacles. She wondered what they would feel like under her fingers.

The spell only stopped when May looked away. Lacey found herself off balance, suddenly back into the real world, where time went fast, and steaming crabbycakes had to be eaten. She blinked away her thoughts, wondering for a moment just where they had come from.

“They’re still sort of hot so be careful,” May said, handing a crabbycake to Lacey. The Octoling took it from her, unsure.

May took a bite of hers and smiled. “I haven’t had this in ages.”

Lacey copied her movements. Warmth spread through her body as she chewed, savoring every bite. The crabbycake melted in her mouth. It was bursting with flavor that spread out over her tongue and seemed to fill her entire body. It was better than any rations from home, packed with spices and flavor where rations were only ever bland.

“Isn’t it good?” May asked.

Lacey nodded, the spell temporarily forgotten. She could wonder what that had been about later. For now, she had a crabbycake to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lacey and May interactions are so fun to write.


	18. In Which The Second Arc Ends and The Tournament Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternately titled: In Which the Author Told Everyone She Would Update On Time and Actually Managed to Do So

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still here. Posting chapters. I won't stop now.  
> Thank you ReedRGale, again, for all your amazing beta-work.  
> This is the last chapter of the second arc. I can't believe I'm finally wrapping it all up.  
> Think of it like a really late Christmas present guys, unless you celebrate something other than Christmas. In which case, thing of it like a really cool present just because from your pretty okay writer friend.  
> ...  
> Anyway, in other news, we have more fanart! I don't know if you guys just look in the comments and find it yourself, but I'll keep posting them up here.  
> http://pre14.deviantart.net/a371/th/pre/i/2015/362/f/2/image_by_detectiverobomonkey-d9lsy7h.jpg  
> Due to this artwork, Lacey in ponytails is now a Thing That I Will Put In This Fanfiction Eventually. Just you guys wait.  
> EDIT: I forgot to actually credit the artist who made this I'm so, so sorry. It was DetectiveRoboMonkey who made the amazing artwork I sincerely apologize.

May slammed her roller to the ground. The resulting splatter of ink removed her opponent from the area and safeto paint the ground. She was determined to win the match and move ahead in the Tournament. 

The buzzer rang, and before she knew it, the amount of ink spread had been gauged and the results were released. They had won the match by a small margin.

It all had happened so fast that hours later May’s mind was still in a blur. She sat in a daze on Aaron’s sofa, biting into a slice of victory pizza that the four had bought while they waited for their next matchup to be announced.

“Well,” Gill said between bites, “that was fun.”

May nodded in agreement, a smile on her face. “I wonder who we’ll fight next.”

“Hopefully someone easy.”

“I don’t want that,” Matt said, sitting up from where he had been resting against Gill’s shoulder, “I want a challenge.”

“Well I’d like to win the Tournament.” Gill quipped.

“I think you both forgot the main reason we’re in this thing is to have fun.” Aaron interrupted. “Anyway, they’ve announced our opponents.” He waved his phone in the air. Everyone crowded around him. May held her breath in anticipation and Aaron scrolled down the list of matchups until they found their team.

Listed next to them was the lastteam May didn’t want to see. Her old team _. Don’s team.   _

May could only wonder if the Tournament was rigged or something, because seriously?  _ Seriously?  _

There was no way she was ready to face him again.

“...are you okay? May? May?”

“I think I need some air,” May said after a moment of silence.

She turned, making her way to the door until a single question from Aaron stopped her.

“Should we withdraw from the Tournament?” He had asked in a mothering tone.

May considered her answer. If she withdrew she would never have to deal with Don again. She could be happy with her friends and he would go far, far away. 

She wanted to say yes, to end all of this so that she wouldn’t have to deal with him ever again. It would make everything so easy, yet the thought of withdrawing made her feel sick.

Aaron had been so excited about the Tournament. Would she really ruin his chances of winning just so that she wouldn’t have to deal with her issues? Was May really that selfish to want something like that? 

No- she would not let him down, she would not let any of her friends down. She would fight in the Tournament for them, even if it meant facing Don.

They wouldn’t leave her, so she wouldn’t leave them.

May faced Aaron. “Don’t bother. We can do this. I can do this.”

“Are you sure?”

“No,” May answered honestly. “But I won’t give up. This is important to you.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes I do. I can’t let my friends down again.”

Aaron sighed. “If you’re sure, then.” He placed a hand on May’s shoulder, “We’ll make sure to help you every step of the way.”

* * *

May woke up from a nightmare to find that for once she was not alone. Soft fingers were wrapped gently around her own trembling hands, thumbs rubbing circles into her palms.

“May,” Lacey said in a soothing tone, “May, it’s alright. It was just a nightmare.”

May could only half hear her. She was still partly in her dream, her fears surrounding her like slowly rising water, ready to remove her from existence.

“May? Can you hear me? Try to match my breathing, okay?”

Lacey placed one of May’s hands on her chest. May could feel it rising and falling under her fingers, steady and slow and  _ safe. _ Little by little, her breathing slowed as she attempted to match, and she began to calm.

“Sorry...” May said. “Did I wake you up?”

Lacey shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. Are you okay?”

“I... don’t think so.”

“Would you like to talk to me about it?”

“Nah,” May said flippantly. “I don’t want to bother you with my shit. I’ve kept you up long enough as it is.”

“Are you certain? I can help...”

“I’m just nervous, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”

Lacey took a deep breath. She pushed forwards, “Why are you nervous?”

“... I have to face someone who was important to me in the Tournament tomorrow. Despite everything that’s happened.” She looked at her hands, still held between Lacey’s. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

Lacey was silent. She bit her lip, deep in thought for a moment, before her face grew very forlorn.

“Don’t think of them as somebody from your past,” she said, eyes distant as though lost in memory. “Even if you know them, on the battlefield, they’re just your opponent. Nothing more, nothing less. Or at least, that’s what I learned.”

“Thank you, Lacey,” May said quietly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Hopefully it would be at least some help to May.

* * *

“Here goes nothing.” Matt said moments before the match began.

May prepared herself- this was just another Turf War, like all the others before it. She could not- would not- lose. She would not let her friends down again.

The stage she was on was unimportant, her weapon was unimportant, her gear was unimportant, even the color of her ink was unimportant. The only thing that mattered even the slightest bit was covering turf. That was her key to winning.

She had lost track of time. May rolled through a great expanse of enemy turf, covering it all, when she was hit by a shot from the opposing sniper. She respawned seconds later, shivering, to find someone inking their base. She could not let that happen.

She made her way to them in squid form, hiding in the ink they’d missed, but stopped suddenly. Her surprise sent her standing upon the ground.

Terra stood in front of May, a blank expression on her pretty face. May spent a moment wondering why she had been surprised. Terra opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when another inkling came running in. 

It was Gravel, tall and lanky where Terra was short and plump. He stopped too, staring at May instead of charging his splatling. Without Don there to fuel any hatred, they seemed different. Or maybe it was that May could focus on them instead of Don.

“May-” Terra said, but stopped herself when she heard footsteps.

In came Don.

The sound of the respawn pad behind May let her know that her friends were arriving too.

The stage was silent except for the music pounding over the speakers.

May couldn’t move. It was Don- he was right in front of her again. She wondered why she had ever agreed to this match. She could have avoided him, could have saved herself from his rage. She meant to avoid his eyes, but somehow found herself looking right into them.

He looked about as tired as she felt.

“You...” he said. There was no more anger within him. It appeared that he had burnt himself out.

May was silent. Her grip tightened against the handle of her roller.

“Why?” he asked, his own grip on his weapon slackening.

“What?” May had not been expecting that.

“Why?” he looked frustrated, “Why did you leave us?”

Terra and Gravel seemed to look at May with expectant eyes.

May was confused. “I... I ruined everything. You wanted me to go, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I was angry, but that- that didn’t mean I wanted you to leave. I would have forgiven you for cheating, I would have, but you left.” As he spoke, his anger seemed to grow and grow into a towering mass. 

“You left! You left and we- we had to deal with it! We had to deal with the cheating! We had to deal with the stress! You didn’t have to deal with anything at all! You just ran away from all of  _ your  _ problems and  _ we  _ had to deal with the consequences of something we hadn’t even done!”

“I-” May said, grappling for some response, some defense for her actions, but she was interrupted.

“How dare you!” Aaron yelled, hands clenched into fists. “How dare you speak to her that way when you don’t even know what she was feeling! There’s more than one side to the story that yours!”

May was suddenly reminded that she wasn’t alone.

“Who are you to talk?” Don argued, “I’ve known her way longer than you! I know what she’s like- you don’t have a clue!”

“And you haven’t seen her in years.” Matt jumped in, his voice dark, “how would you know anything about how she’s changed?”

And how could May know anything about Don?

Don was silent. His hands tightened on his inkbrush. “But she abandoned us, she abandoned us and-”

“That may be true,” it was Gill this time, “but that doesn’t change anything! It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Why are you still angry?”

Throwing his inkbrush to the ground, Don scowled, and to May, he wasn’t Don anymore. This was not the Don she had known. He was different now.

He had changed, but so had she. May wasn’t alone anymore.

Don was nobody now but her opponent. With one hand, she picked up her roller and swung it around, hitting Don directly with her ink.

He was gone.

The timer rang.

The match was over.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” May stared at the ground, unable to meet the eyes of her friends, “I got us all distracted and we lost. This is my fault. I know how important this was to you all...”

Aaron smiled, “It’s fine, May.”

“W- what?”

“It’s fine. We should have accounted for the fact that they had a fourth team member still inking things.”

“But-”

“May,” Aaron said, “We aren’t going to leave you over something as silly as this. The Tournament was just for fun. We said it before and we’ll say it again- we aren’t leaving you.”

_ But what if they do? _ Said a small voice from within May, wrapping itself around her and squeezing tight, forcing the happiness from within her. She struggled for a moment with it, thinking as much as she could about how her friends would never leave until the voice loosened. May forced it down to where it would not bother her, at least for the time being she could feel okay.

Now wasn’t the time for her worries. She was going to hang out with her friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I can't wait for you guys to see the next arc.  
> It's gonna be fun to write, that's for sure.


	19. In Which the Third Arc Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here I am again with the next chapter *confetti*. It's the start of the third arc. I'm almost at 20 chapters. This is amazing.  
> ReedRGale is a wonderful beta and you should all read Nadir, which is his splatoon fic, which is a great splatoon fic.  
> If anyone wants to contact me, my tumblr is Littlemapleleaf.tumblr.com. We can talk about splatoon and you can send me headcanons about my characters if you have any. I will love all of them.  
> Also, Jack has made more fanart! (Can my heart take any more of this?)  
> https://41.media.tumblr.com/37cc4fc1014c97d0a296d2f62a7ed8d4/tumblr_o0o7vvyzQ91ra86too1_1280.png

The dimly lit halls were empty, filled only with the echo of heavy boots treading on metal. Commander Kelp rounded a corner, marching down the corridor with purpose. Behind her, tread light in his slippers, hands full with a stack of various documents, letters, and reports, was her new secretary.

“Hurry up,” she growled, watching as he flinched, “I don’t have all day.”

He nodded, trembling, and began walking faster. Even after all of his time, Mallory was still afraid of her.

That was good. It was so much easier to control the ones who were scared.

At the end of the hall was a large, heavy door. A sign hanging next to it said ‘Conference Room.’ Commander Kelp kicked the door open so hard, it slammed against the wall and caught the attention of the room’s occupants. She stepped inside, Mallory following quickly behind her.

She knew that were she anyone else, the other generals would reprimand her for being late, but these cowards were too scared shitless of her.

“My fellow generals,” she said with a snarl, “I know you’ve invited me here today to talk about the current political unrest.” She stalked to the general who had called the meeting, looking him directly in the eyes. He leaned back in his seat. “It really is all you ever talk about these days- who should become the next DJ, who should it be? Well,” she slammed her fist against the table, “You’ve all forgotten about the other fifty-thousand issues we’re dealing with here! Luckily for you, I have a solution so that you can focus on more important things and get back to doing the actual work you’ve been assigned to instead of squabbling over this shit like a bunch of children.”

She paused in her speech, allowing her words to sink in. The generals glanced around at each other in confusion, muttering quietly to each other, probably wondering what she was doing. Just as one was about to speak, Commander Kelp interrupted him. “The solution is that we’re going to send out a search party for DJ Octavio.”

She waited. Three, two, one.

There was a sudden uproar. The generals were all over the place, yet united in the singular and most pitiful cause of yelling at the Commander.

“You- you can’t just-”

“But we-”

“That-”

“How dare you-”

They sputtered for a few more minutes. Commander Kelp tapped one foot on the ground, arms crossed as she watched their antics coldly. Finally, they managed to get some illusion of control back.

General Pikaia stood up. She was a tall woman, not quite old enough to have seen the war, but still older than the other generals, with a scarred and wrinkled face topped with long, drooping tentacles.

“With all due respect,” she began, “DJ Octavio is dead. There is no point in wasting precious resources on a wild goose-chase to fuel your hero-worship. We should appoint one of us as the next DJ and soon so we can be focus on-”

Commander Kelp clicked her tongue. General Pikaia seemed to think she had control here. “Focus on what?” she questioned, “the capturing and keeping of zapfish? Because as I seem to recall, you’re the one heading that division. Tell me, just how is it going? Have you managed to capture those pesky inklings messing up all of our plans?”

General Pikaia lowered back down into her seat, gritting her teeth. Though her face remained unchanging, she felt some pleasure at seeing the power she still held over the generals, even with DJ Octavio gone.

“Perhaps,” Commander Kelp continued, “when you’ve actually managed to do your job successfully and guard the zapfish as you are supposed to, maybe then you’ll actually be able to argue with me.” She glanced around the room, noting the tense faces of the generals, “I know you love to hate me,” she said, “but there is actual logic behind this decision. Unlike you, the rest of the Octoling Corp loves DJ Octavio. What better way to whip our soldiers back into shape than with a public search for him? I’m sure they would be happy to do it. Now,” she leaned against the table, leering at the generals, “Have you finished this nonsense?”

The rest were as silent as she expected them to be.

“Are there any other objections?”

Silence.

“Then since we’re all in agreement, we can get started.” She snapped her fingers, “Mallory, the slides.”

Mallory jumped about three feet in the air, nearly dropping the paper he had been using to record the meeting. He leapt to the projector- an old, dying thing used during the war that had been brought in now due to its low energy use compared to the screens that it was replacing. 

He took a slide displaying information on DJ Octavio’s last sighting and placed it in the slot so the other generals could see. Commander Kelp moved to the blank screen in front of the projector. 

She would find DJ Octavio no matter what it took.

“Now, let’s get started.”

* * *

Despite the fact that he didn’t need it, Aaron had always liked his job at the tiny grocery store. Sure, the hours weren’t fun (he was missing a  _ splatfest _ right now- a freaking splatfest for this shit), but it had allowed him to meet his friends and always he saw so many interesting people, like now.

To be honest, Aaron was a little worried. Customers didn’t usually have their faces smashed in.

“Are you alright?” He asked while running a roll of bandages over the scanner..

The guy purchasing them just sort of grunted and wiped some blood off of his nose. He went to his pocket, his rather long tentacles falling over his face, and pulled out a cheap looking wallet, fumbling for a moment with the change (were those bloodstains? What did this guy usually get up to?) before slamming it on the counter with a small cry, possibly out of pain.

“Can I help you?” Aaron asked as he took the money and carefully put it in the register.

“I don’t need your fucking help,” The guy muttered, “lay off.”

Well this guy was rude. Still, Aaron had yet to give up just because of rudeness. “Are you sure? You look a little... scratched up.”

“No kidding,” the guy said, “I just got my ass beat.”

“Let me at least get you some ice from the back.”

“No.”

“I really think you should let me do this.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Not when you’re injured like that.”

“Will it make you go away?”

“Yes. Let me help you, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“...fine...”

Aaron smiled.  _ Aaron 1,  _ he thought,  _ The Stubbornness of Some Random Guy 0. _

When he came back with a baggy of ice, he was a little surprised to see the guy still standing there.

“I’ll dress some of your wounds too,” Aaron told him gently, “just sit on the counter.”

“...”

“It’ll only take a second. I don’t want you treat your wounds yourself, you might not get everything.”

Finally, after a bit of persistence on Aaron’s part, the guy finally sat himself on the counter, and Aaron got to work. He had to marvel at the guy’s pain tolerance- he never flinched, not even when his scratches were wiped with disinfectant.

“My name is Aaron, what’s yours?”

He grumbled something unintelligible.

“What?”

“...Anthias...” the guy finally said.

“Anthias, huh. Well how did you get so beat up?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Is there anything you  _ do  _ want to talk about?”

“No.”

“Okay then,” Aaron said, and was silent. He tried to think of a good topic of conversation- he wanted to know this guy. He seemed like the type to get hurt a lot, and Aaron happened to be the type who worried about random strangers. “So uh... why the camera?”

Anthias looked confused, “what?”

“You bought all of this stuff for treating wounds- which you don’t have to pay for anymore by the way because I’m going to pay you back for them- and then you randomly bought a camera. What do you need a camera for?”

“It’s none of your business!” Anthias snapped.

“Okay, okay, I won’t pry.”

“Well it’s too late for that because  _ you already are. _ ”

Aaron blinked. “Sorry I-”

Anthias scowled, pushing himself from the counter. “Fuck off!” he yelled, grabbing his bags from the counter and stomping out the door.

“Well,” Aaron said to himself, “that went horribly.”

* * *

“Lacey,” May whispered. She watched as the Octoling groaned and sat up, rubbing the grogginess from her eyes.

“May?” Lacey asked, “is something wrong?”

“Actually, there’s something I want to show you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise. Follow me.” May took Lacey’s hand as the Octoling pulled herself out of bed. She had asked now, many times, to switch with May, but as long as Lacey was staying with May, she would be sleeping in the most comfortable thing May owned.

Not bothering to put on shoes, she led Lacey to the door. They walked barefoot down the hallway of May’s apartment building and up the old, creaky stairs to the very top. May could feel the cool air rushing in from outside. She followed it until she reached a door. Pushing it open, she turned to Lacey.

“After you,” she said.

She waited a moment as Lacey stepped outside and followed her onto the roof.

“It’s this way,” she told Lacey, walking to the edge of the building. She sat down so that her feet dangled in the air and patted the ground beside her.

Lacey sat gingerly next to her, undaunted by the height.

“What was it you wanted to show me?” she asked.

May pointed out in the direction of Inkopolis. Lacey followed her gaze and looked out upon the city below, an amalgam of music and brightly colored fireworks. It was beautiful and bright like the stars.

“What is this?” Lacey asked with barely contained wonder in her voice.

“It’s the splatfest,” May said. She could barely hear the voices of the Squid Sisters being projected throughout Inkopolis from here, “it’s a celebration that the Inklings have every month.”

“It’s beautiful,” Lacey admired, “the colors in Inkopolis are so vibrant.”

“Yeah. Usually instead of actually participating in it I come up here and watch.”

“Mhmm,” was all Lacey said.

May tried to watch the splatfest as usual, but found her gaze drawn to Lacey instead. Her skin seemed to glow in the city lights. Even in the dark, May could make out every freckle, the slight smile of her lips, the shape of her tentacles resting on her shoulders. The reflection of the rainbow lights created stars in her eyes. May was utterly mistified.

A cold wind blew, signaling the end of the summer. May shifted unconsciously towards Lacey. Their shoulders touched.

She hadn’t felt this peaceful in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This arc is one of my favorites but I also have it the least planned out so I uh, I guess we'll just see where it goes?


	20. In Which Cold Fries Are Soggy and Terrible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late! This chapter is late! Gosh I hate roadtrips!!!!!  
> Anyway, this whole thing was fun to write.  
> Chapter 20. We're finally here. We made it guys. A whole 20 chapters. Somebody bring out the champagne, I feel like celebrating. I can't believe my fanfiction has lasted this long. I thought for sure nobody would even read it at first. Thank you guys for staying with me all this time.

The slam of the door was all that announced Don’s entrance into the rented apartment that the squad shared. Sandy looked up from her book and took in Don’s dark expression. Silently, she prepared herself for the worst.

“So how did it go?” she asked.

Don was silent for a moment. “...we were banned from the tournament.”

Sighing, Sandy snapped her book shut and placed it on the table. Here we go, she thought to herself.

“It was all May’s fault!” Don screamed, kicking at the wall so hard he left a dent. Sandy winced. Hopefully the landlord wouldn’t see that. “It was her fault! She’s the reason I’m so pissed! If I hadn’t seen her like that, all- all-”

“Don.”

“She was so different! Why was she so different?”

“Don.”

“I tried so hard! So hard! And she just-”

“Don!”

Startled, Don turned to stare at Sandy.

“Have you ever considered you have a problem?” Sandy asked, just the slightest bit annoyed.

“What? I don’t have a problem,” Don huffed “you have a problem!”

“And just what would that be?”

“You’re too fucking nosy!”

“And you’re too fucking angry! Look at you! You just got us kicked out of the exact thing you worked so hard to get into because you just couldn’t ignore May!”

“This is her fault,” Don reassured himself, “her fault, not mine.”

“Terra and Gravel have moved on. Why can’t you?”

Don’s tone darkened. “Don’t bring them into this.”

“Why not? They’re a part of this too, aren’t they?”

“Shut up! Shut up!”

“Not until you admit that you’ve become obsessed with May!”

“You would too after going through what I did!” Don’s voice cracked, a tiny thing, hidden under layer upon layer of rage, but Sandy still heard it.

“Then why are you the only one who’s still angry? You reacted violently, Don, violently, to a comment that was nothing more than posturing! You knew he was just your opponent! You knew it had nothing to do with you, and yet you decided to punch the guy! I’ve never seen you do that before. This is affecting you badly and you know it.”

“Terra and Gravel weren’t nearly as close to May as I was! They never went through what I did! They didn’t know her like I did- they- they-”

The door to the kitchen had opened at some point during their argument. Terra and Gravel had stuck their heads in, watching Don’s tantrum silently. Gravel sighed and went back into the kitchen. Sandy knew that once, he had been the one to have these arguments with Don. Somehow it had become her job.

Terra remained. Don withered under her disappointed gaze. “J- just leave me alone.” He stammered, before stomping off to his room.

“It's been years,” Terra said in her soft voice, “years, and he hasn’t even tried to move on.”

“I’ve noticed,” Sandy replied. Sighing, she added, “this is really unhealthy for him.”

“I’ve tried so many things to get him to move on. I’m starting to give up on him ever getting over it.”

“Maybe one day we can figure it out. For now though, you should go back to cooking with your boyfriend. I think I need a walk.”

Terra nodded. The kitchen door closed a moment later.

As Sandy pulled her boots on, she absently wondered if talking to May would be a good idea.

Anything to pull Don from the hole he was digging for himself.

* * *

Lacey had a bit of a problem.

It was a fairly new thing, she told herself as she went through her training warm ups, a problem she didn't quite have a name for. She was fairly certain the word began with a ‘c’ and ended with a ‘rush’ but she really didn't want to think about it.

Despite everything she had been through with May, all she could think of was the 100 year old war that had sealed their fate. She and May were doomed to separate. The closer Lacey got to May, the more impossible staying with her seemed. There was a giant chasm twice the size of Octo-Valley between them, and it was impossible to bridge.  
Lacey began her push-ups. Warm ups always helped her to think, in times like these. They were routine, easy, even when the rest of life wasn't. Lacey was already positive she couldn't go home. There was nothing, absolutely nothing stopping her from having... feelings for May.

Her face heated rapidly at her admission and she fell to the floor, grabbing her flustered cheeks. Suddenly, she was very glad May had gone, out doing whatever it was she did all day.

Was it perhaps a mission for the army, where she would fight the Octarians, or even kill them?

No. Lacey knew immediately that May would never do such a thing, would never hurt one of Lacey’s kind just as Lacey was positive she would never be able to attack an Inkling again.

There was nothing that would get in the way of Lacey’s feelings for May, not even her own people.

Lacey’s feelings for May. Her _feelings_ for _May._

Everytime Lacey saw May, she wanted to touch her, to lift up on her tiptoes and kiss her.

She imagined it now, May’s surprised face, hopefully not absolutely disgusted at the thought of being with Lacey. Their lips together, hands grasping each other tightly, fingers intertwined.

Reluctantly, Lacey tried to imagine something else.

DJ Octavio would probably be disappointed in her if he ever found out- if he was, Lacey would lose his trust, and her final connection to the Octarians. She tried to care about that, but found that May was starting to mess up her loyalties.

This was a problem. She had to stop. Even as a cast-out, she was still loyal to the Octarians. She wondered if May would ever hate her for that.

May didn’t even like her back, anyway.

It would be better to end this now, so that Lacey would hurt less later.

The door opened. May came in, hands filled with bags as they so often were lately. Lacey wondered what May had brought from outside to show her this time, since Lacey could not go out herself.

Well, she could always visit the roof. Lacey remembered sitting there during the splatfest. There had been so many lights, so many colors. She had decided upon returning indoors that May’s apartment was too grey, like the hallways of the barracks in which Lacey had trained, and in desperate need of color and light and the warmth that always seemed to exist in May.

That had been a week ago. Lacey had done nothing in that time except for realize her feelings.

“Lacey?” May asked, “You okay over there?”

“Y-yeah!” Lacey squeaked, “I’m fine!”

May smiled, “I have something to show you.” She had been smiling a lot more, recently.

“What is it?”

May pulled a soggy looking box from one of the bags. From the other, she pulled some tiny packets that reminded Lacey of the rations from home. She also held a cardboard box that held two paper cylinders, straws protruding from the tops.

“Fries and milkshakes. It took a while to get over here from the store so the fries are cold, but they’re fine!”

Lacey stood up, intending to join May at the counter.

“You should sit on the sofa,” May remarked, “I have something else to show you there, too.”

“Alright, then?” Lacey sat and watched as May puttered around the apartment barefoot. At one point she lifted the table up all on her own and set it in front of Lacey, who was reminded of May’s strength. It was one of the reasons Lacey hadn’t killed her back then- May had been able to hold her down easily. Yet, that same strength had allowed May to bring her here. Lacey was grateful to it.

Without it, she might have been dead, and she would never have been able to see May as anything more than a target.

At some point, food had been set in front of Lacey- a plate of very sad looking rectangle things that Lacey was pretty sure we're fries, covered in sticky looking red stuff from the packets and one of the two cylinders which Lacey assumed held the ‘milkshakes’.

May had knelt down in front of the screen, sipping her milkshake with one hand while placing a disk into a squarish rectangle with the other.

Lacey followed May’s example and was immediately rewarded with the sweetest thing she had ever tasted. It was creamy and wonderful. We're the fries this good?

She lifted one and shoved it into her mouth.

This was the exact opposite of good. It was horrendous, mushy and cold, somehow blander than the rations from home.

May sat next to her, pointed with a remote and shoved a few fries in her mouth.

“I’m going to show you my favorite movie series.” May seemed excited.

“Movie?”

“It’s like a story that people have acted out and filmed. It’s for entertainment.”

“I... see.” Lacey didn’t see.

“The series is called Squid Cannon and it’s really good.”

Music was playing from the screen, but May had leaned over. Her head was close to Lacey’s, far too close for the Octoling’s liking. If she leaned over right now, she could give May a kiss, just a small one, on the cheek maybe, or the tentacle, or maybe even the lips-

“So, are you enjoying the fries?” May asked cheerfully.

Lacey hated them.

“Oh yes,” Lacey nodded, “I love them.” She stuffed a few in her mouth for good measure, nearly gagging. May’s happiness depended on her liking this food. Just a few more hours of this, just a few, and she wouldn’t have to eat them anymore.

At least the milkshake was nice. Lacey took a big sip.

On the screen, dramatic music played. Lacey watched as a tall inkling dodged explosion after explosion of ink- violent ones, the kind that could actually hurt someone and not just splat them. Has this actually happened? What sort of entertainment was this?

Lacey turned to stare at May, wondering how she was supposed to react. She found herself watching May, staring at the smile on the inkling’s lips. So the violence was... good, then? Perhaps it was just a story. May didn’t seem the type to take pleasure at such violence.

This was okay, Lacey decided then. Even if May didn’t like her back, as long as she could stay like this, so close to May, she would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love character development.  
> And soggy fries really are The Worst. Poor May has lived off of horrible food for so long that her taste buds can't tell what's good food and what's complete garbage anymore. It really is a tragedy.


	21. In Which Anthias Needs to Chill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait guys! It's a little hard to update when you're shoveling snow and making up homework. Lots of homework. Too much homework.  
> Okay so we have MORE [FANART](http://eixack.tumblr.com/post/137253014007/done-one-page-to-illustrate-the-chapter-19-of)! You guys are too good to me, seriously. Thank you Eixack so much. You're wonderful and so is this art. (I figured out how to embed links. Are you proud of me?)  
> Thank you to ReedRGale for the beta-reading and for reminding me to get back to the plot. It's sort of staring to stagnate now. Sorry guys. I'm gonna have to warn you to brace yourselves, though. We'll be right back next chapter.

Anthias stumbled into the side of the ring. His face throbbed from where it had met his opponent’s fist, a sharp, cracking pain that seemed to ripple through his entire body. Grinning, he pushed himself up to his feet, only to take another hit.

Tasting fresh blood in his mouth, he leaned over to spit out a tooth, just barely ducking under the next punch and slamming his own fist into their sternum. They doubled over, their weight shifting forwards. Anthias took the chance to deliver a kick just under their knees. He watched, satisfied, as their feet slipped out from under them and they tumbled to the grimy floor and remained there, motionless, breathing heavily.

Anthias found his breath came hard. He ignored it, watching as his defeated opponent crawled away and was replaced by another.

“Is this scrawny wimp the one I’m supposed to fight?” His opponent leered, tilting her head, “This’ll be a cinch.”

“Yeah, for me.” Anthias quipped, “You? I’m not really sure.” He checked over the wrappings on his wrists, “Let’s find out.”

The match started.

Anthias ducked under her fist easily, catching her with an uppercut to her jaw. She stumbled back and immediately came at him again, ignoring the blood dripping down her face.

Anthias wasn’t so lucky the second time; she caught him by the arm, twisting it around to his back. Before he knew it, Anthias was being slammed into the rail very hard, over and over.

In instinctive retaliation, he slammed a foot into her knee. She screeched in pain, releasing him. Anthias fell, rolling under her legs to the other end of the ring. He jumped back up, hands curled into fists.

The two ran at each other, exchanging blows. In the middle of a combination, Anthias suddenly jumped, wrapping his legs around her torso, slamming the both of them into the floor. Anthias flipped them around so he was on top of her, slamming his fist into her face until she managed to throw him off of her.

As they pushed themselves to their feet, attempting to regain their breath, Anthias grabbed one of her tentacles, wrenching it hard. She retaliated, kneeing him in the stomach and then punching him dead in the face.

Anthias stumbled back, his feet slipping, his balance lost. The breath was knocked out of him as he hit the floor. His opponent leaned over him, grabbing him by his sides and lifting him over her head.

Anthias could hear the cheers of the screaming crowd, could taste the dust in the air, could smell the metallic blood and the foul stench of sweat that would never leave this place. Adrenaline pumped through his body. Despite the sharpness of his pain and the damage done to him, he found another smile forcing itself onto his face.

The ring was the best place to feel alive.

His opponent slammed him against the floor. Blood gushed from his mouth. Pain exploded everywhere on his body. He let out a little moan, moving his bruised arms to shield himself from any more damage she might decide to inflict. Despite the roaring of his instincts to move, hisbody didn’t respond, even as she lifted him by the shirt.

“So this is it?” she spat bitterly, “I was looking for a fight.”

He couldn’t even manage to think of a good retort.

She dropped him back down. It took all of his remaining energy to crawl from the ring, his feet trembling simply with the effort of keeping him upright. Anthias took his duffel bag from where he had left in under the ring and stumbled through the tiny space, pushing past the unruly crowd to a back hallway.

The one person bathroom was luckily vacant. Anthias locked the door behind him and leaned against it. He slid to the floor, feeling the cool linoleum tiles under his fingertips.

He tried to breathe, to calm down. It was no use. He needed to take it off, right now.

Anthias removed his baggy T-Shirt, and then his pants, wincing at the strain on his muscles. His trembling fingers found the bottoms of his binder. He peeled it off slowly, revealing a wide array of bruises and scrapes still bleeding that littered his body like an impressionist painting.

“Shit, shit, _shit_ ,” he muttered to himself through the pain-induced haze, “shit, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

And this wasn’t even counting the rest of him.

Finally, after what felt like ages, he was freed from the constricting binder. Anthias gasped for breath. His heart was still pumping faster than the rest of him could move. He lay there, cheek pressed against the tiles, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. He had undone his usual ponytail, allowing his tentacles to rest on either side of him. He stayed there for only a moment, not allowing himself anymore time to rest. There was work to be done.

He sat up quickly, grasping for his duffel bag. His hands found the disinfectant first, and then a small washcloth. He spent little time wiping himself down, and carelessly wrapped himself back up. His bandages were too tight. The uncomfortability only made the pain pang sharper. Ignoring this, he switching out his medical supplies for the change of clothing he had brought.

He pulled on his second binder (slightly worn), then his shirt followed by, his pants and shoes. Last, he tied his tentacles back up, leaving the way he came.

The ring seemed exactly as he had left it. Sweaty and sticky, full of a crowd high on adrenaline all packed together in one tiny room. It was no wonder he fit in here so well. Anthias was no better than the rest of them.

He leaned against a table in the corner, watching the current fight from afar. The girl who had beaten him, he noted with pleasure, was getting her ass kicked.

“That was a good fight.”

Anthias didn’t even look at the source of the voice. He held up a hand expectantly.

“Here’s your share of the winnings for tonight,” said Omma next to him, placing a wad of cash in his palm, “you made a lot, kid.”

Omma was a short woman, with wide tentacles and a wrinkled face.

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better?” Anthias asked, placing the money in his bag.

“Nope,” Omma replied. There was the sound of metal scraping across wood as she moved a box over to him.

“I’m not gonna sample your fucking cookies Omma,” Anthias groaned.

“Not asking you to. Just letting you know the option’s there.”

“I don’t need you coddling me.”

“I never said I was.”

“Well, you are.”

Omma sighed, “You’re a wreck, kid. Take my advice, eat a cookie, calm down. Whatever’s stressed you enough to bring you here six nights in a row can wait.”

Anthias bristled. “Shut up!”

“All I’m saying is that you’ve been really taking a beating lately.”

“All I’m saying is that you should leave me alone.”

“Leaving kids alone to brood is dangerous,” Omma crossed her arms, “I know that from experience.” She sighed, running a hand over one of her tentacles, “just take a damn cookie, kid.” She held it out to him.

Anthias snatched it from her and stood so hard his chair clattered on the floor. He stomped from the ring and up the narrow staircase that led to the surface. Chewing the crumbling cookie angrily, he stormed down the abandoned streets.

He had to find that Octoling, and fast. He would prove everyone doubting him wrong. They would all see what he could accomplish.

He wasn’t worthless… he’d show them all!

* * *

Lacey was very soft, May decided. Like fuzzy socks, warm and nice, even in the cold. One of her tentacles curled oddly, not quite fitting the shape of her head like the rest did. Her freckles were littered in patches all over her body in little swooping paths. May wondered where those paths led, after all, Lacey never took off her armor.

Lacey’s eyes were round and warm. Her pupils, May often marvelled, were _sideways._ Sideways! They were so different than what May was used to, yet no less beautiful. May wondered if Lacey thought of her like that. She wondered if Lacey wanted to pull May close like May did, to sit somewhere, holding each other.

What would she feel like, under all that armor?

If May pulled Lacey close, would Lacey want to leave?

May sighed. She knew that the idea of Lacey, one of her closest friends, leaving, was stupid. Lacey would never leave May. Even if she went to the Octarians, she would come back.

She wouldn’t just cut everything off. Would she?

The fear from within May whispered, _what if she does leave? What if she never liked you? What if she never planned to stay?_

It was getting harder to force these thoughts away. May knew that her friends didn’t hate her. She knew they wouldn’t abandon her.

And yet, the fear would always remain that they hated her.

“May?” Lacey asked, “are you okay? You’re doing that thing again.”

May nearly jumped, “What thing?”

“You stare off at nothing. You look so sad when you do it.” Lacey sat comfortably close to May. So near, May could see even more tiny details on Lacey’s face. There was a spidery scar on the edge of Lacey’s lips, so small May had never noticed it before now. She wondered where it had come from. If getting it had hurt.

Something in May wanted to kiss it away.

Lacey leaned on May’s arm. Her touch was shocking against May’s skin. She felt hot, as she watched Lacey staring into her eyes, searching for something. Sadness, perhaps, or anger. May saw only concern in Lacey’s eyes, sharp as they seemed to dig into her.

“I’m fine, Lacey,” May assured her.

_No you aren’t,_ said May’s fear, _not yet. Not ever._

_Oh, shut up,_ May thought, _I may not be fine, but right now I’m okay._

“Are you sure?” Lacey’s hand rested on May’s shoulder.

“Yes Lacey, I’m sure.”

Lacey didn’t look convinced. “Alright then,” she said.

They were silent for a long time. May found she didn’t want to move. She took Lacey’s hand in her own. Their fingers laced together. May found the safety she always could in this gesture.

With Lacey, she truly did feel content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so in case I did a bad job at implying it, Anthias is trans. Just clearing that up.  
> Thank you for reading and for being patient with me!


	22. In Which There Are Visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back!  
> I feel like the update schedule may slowly be moving to Mondays.  
> Anyway, we have [MORE](http://eixack.tumblr.com/post/138113053777/and-another-fanart-for-first-aid-kits-and-deep) [ART](http://sta.sh/0jz3vmil8wu) and I am just a ball of excitement this is great. I'm getting spoiled over here.  
> Anyway, thank you ReedRGale (as usual) for beta-ing, and thank you all for reading!  
> I hope you like the chapter!

Lacey’s favorite thing about May’s apartment building was the roof. She was free up there, where nobody could see her. She would lay on the rooftop, watching the sky for hours, waiting for May to come home.

Even at night, it was her favorite place. The sky was dark, and though she couldn’t see the stars, the lights of the city were just as wonderful. It was nothing like the cities at home, that was for sure. Inkopolis was different than the dark, winding tunnels that connected together into a series of hovels. She could see everything, could feel the very life coming from each street.

She sat alone now, staring out at the city. May was sleeping, taking her well-deserved rest after a day of hard work to keep them fed. Still awake due to a lack of such work on her part, Lacey had gone to the roof to think, and possibly wallow in her guilt. Leaning forwards, she rested her elbow on her knee, placing her cheek in the palm of her hand.

Every glaring difference between Inkopolis and her own home reminded Lacey of how she missed it and how she could never return. The only thing she had left was May. Wonderful, wonderful May who she couldn’t stay with forever. Even now, her presence was hurting the inkling, who was struggling just to keep the two of them afloat. 

It could not continue like this.

She sighed, uncertain of what to do, when she first heard it: the sound of near silent boots, so quiet only someone trained similarly could hear. Years of training kicked in. She rolled behind an air vent soundlessly, and peeked over the side.

Her heart stopped for a moment at the sight in front of her.

Four Octolings, fully geared, were on top of May’s apartment.

Lacey’s first thought was that they had come for May. Her second was that they were there to kill  _ her _ \- it made sense, killing a deserter. It would be a lesson to others.

“It sure is different here,” said one of the Octolings, staring out at the city, “the air feels much less... stuffy.” Lacey’s eyes widened. Even with the mask on, she easily recognised that Octoling- Private Verbena. She had after all, served alongside her for years. 

The others too, she realized, were all a part of her old squad. All but one, who Lacey assumed was her replacement.She ignored the pang that went through her chest at that thought. Of course she’d been replaced. She had been missing for months.

“Of course it is,” the replacement said, sounding very bored, “they have actual air out here.”

Clenching her hands into fists, Private Chalcedony scowled. “We could have had this. We could have, and the Inklings stole it from us.”

“We’re all aware that we lost the war,” muttered Captain Yucca, “but let’s remember the reason we’re here isn’t to brood about our history. We have a job to do. Private Iola,” she said to the replacement, “do you see any empty buildings from here we could establish as a base?”

“I would need to look a bit harder than we are now. I can’t just tell if a building is empty by staring at it.”

Chalcedony slapped her arm. “Don’t speak to your superior that way!”

“I’m simply stating a fact.” Private Iola muttered, rubbing her arm where Chalcedony had hit her.

Captain Yucca sighed. It struck Lacey how easily this Iola person seemed to fit into her old place. Her chest felt tight. Suddenly she wanted, more than anything, to go home. To be a part of a family like this one.

_ You can’t _ . She reminded herself.  _ You’re a traitor. A deserter. You would rather be with May than try to go home- you had so many chances to leave you never took. _

“Look harder,” Yucca said, “we have to set up a base fast, or finding DJ Octavio will be impossible.”

The world seemed to stop. DJ Octavio... they were looking for him. She knew almost  _ exactly  _ where he was. If she told them right now, got up and told them, surely they would take her back. Surely she could go home.

She was already standing up when she realized what a stupid idea that was. Telling them would be betraying May, like taking an ink gun and shooting May with it right to her face, or taking a knife to her tentacles. Imagining how hurt May would be at Lacey’s betrayal, she knew that she could never tell a soul about Octavio.

Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. The squad noticed her immediately. 

They gaped, confused.

“L-Lacey...?” Chalcedony was the first to speak.

Lacey, at a loss for what to say, shrugged.

“You’re dead,” Yucca said, “They told us- you died- you’re first mission with Commander Kelp- and you died. The Inklings murdered you.”

“...I’m alright.” Lacey tried to think of a good explanation, “I was injured, but I survived. I’ve been here ever since.”

“And you never tried to come back?” Verbena nearly whispered, her voice wavering.

Bracing herself, Lacey prepared for the awful words, traitor, coward, deserter. They never came.

Instead, she felt arms wrap around her. She was being  _ hugged _ , for some reason, instead of rejected.

“Why did you never try to come back?” Iola asked. She was the only one hanging back, the only one that didn’t seem to trust Lacey. Which made sense. What reason did she have to trust someone she had never met?

“I wasn’t certain how I could...”

“Well you can come back now!” Lacey was sure Chalcedony’s eyes were gleaming beneath her mask. “You can have your post back!”

“Right,” Iola said, scowling, “she can just mosey back on in after abandoning her people.”

“Iola!”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?”

Lacey stared at her feet.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Chalcedony put a hand on Lacey’s shoulder, “you can help us- we can take you home!”

Half of Lacey wanted to say yes, to throw everything she had built in Inkopolis away, to  _ go home.  _ But another part of her knew better.

She loved May too much.

Perhaps she loved her even more than she loved the idea of returning to her old life.

Lacey had always wanted to go back to where things made sense, with structure and order and her family. But she wanted to be with May more. She couldn’t bare the thought of leaving her. Not yet, anyway. Pulling at each other, the two sides battled within her.

“I... don’t think I can return,” Lacey finally replied, “Not yet.”

Yucca nodded, “You’re right. We need your help to search for DJ Octavio. We believe the Inklings may have captured him. You’ve been here long enough to know the city. You can aid our efforts with your intel.”

“Of course, sir.” Lacey found herself saluting. “What do you need to know?”

Acting like a soldier again was odd. Lacey had not done it in months, and now the actions she had been trained from near birth to perform felt like clothing that had become too tight.

“First order of business,” Yucca said, “we have to establish a base of operations. Do you know where we could do that?”

Lacey thought for a moment. She had to keep them away from May.

“The poorer areas will probably have more empty places. You just have to be careful not to be seen.”

Yucca nodded. “Iola,” she said in a commanding voice. Iola snapped to attention, “Prepare your gear. The rest of you, make sure you have everything. We’re going to find that base tonight.” Her voice became softer as she turned back to Lacey.

“Do you have anywhere to stay? You can come with us.”

“I’m fine here.” Lacey said, “I’m all set up.”

“We’ll send someone to speak with you on this rooftop if anything comes up.”

“Of course.”

“Let’s go!” The squad left, moving efficiently down the building, utterly silent.

Lacey stood on the rooftop alone, barely breathing, staring off into space.

The enormity of what she had just done slammed into her much like  those spikes all those months ago. Her fingers shook, her knees became wobbly. She fell, breathing hard, to her stomach.

Oh no. Oh no. No no no.

This was going to end horribly. If May found out she was helping the Inkling’s sworn enemy, she would never trust Lacey again. She would push her away and she’d never get to see the May anymore.

If the Octolings found out about her crush, they could drag Lacey off to be executed for treason. Worse, they might  _ kill May. _ She couldn’t allow that.

Pushing herself to her feet, Lacey removed herself from the roof. She didn’t know what to do. All she knew was that she wanted to see May. More than anything, she wanted to see her, to check that she was alright, not mutilated or hurt in any way.

The thought of May hurt...

Emotions traveled through Lacey like a shockwave. Stopping to lean against the wall, she covered her mouth with a trembling hand to quiet the soft whine she had just made.

She needed to see May. She  _ needed _ to see May.

It was silly. Lacey knew May was fine, still sleeping on the sofa despite Lacey’s insistence she take back her bed. The Inkling would not have moved after an hour, except if she had been woken.

Lacey made it back to May’s apartment quickly. She managed to shut the door softly behind her, making her way over to where May slept, blissfully unaware of the magnitude of what Lacey had just experienced. She would have to remain that way.

Resting her forehead against May’s hand, tears dripping from her cheeks, eyes wide, staring at nothing, Lacey was filled with a strange resolve. 

For as long as she was alive, she would protect May from the Octolings, even as she rejoined their ranks. She would not have to choose between her home and the one she loved.

Lacey would keep them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, did you think everything would be perfect and happy forever?  
> Now may be a good time to mention that there is still a Graphic Depictions of Violence warning on this fanfiction, and while the violence may not be coming around now, there will be more violence eventually. I'll warn you when the chapter comes but I guess I want you to be ready?


	23. In Which There Is a Swear Jar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also titled: In Which The Author Is Very Sorry But She Had Homework

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY HOLY CRAP THIS WAS SO LATE. I had a bunch of snow days and then the teachers piled on homework and I couldn't make any time to write, so I want to apologize. I'm going to try to get back onto schedule, but I should probably say now (in case you haven't figured it out) I may be late sometimes.  
> At least I finally finished this chapter.  
> ReedRGale was my amazing beta reader.

“Come on Matt, get up!”

Matt groaned, pulling the covers further over his head. How Gill always managed to be awake so early in the morning eluded him.

“Matt! We’re supposed to meet Aaron and May at the cafe today! You don’t want to be late, do you?”

“Aaron can suck it,” Matt groaned, “Let me sleep.”

“Noooo,” Gill protested, grabbing Matt’s arm and pulling him until he slid half off the bed and his face acquainted itself with the floor, “we have to go  _ now _ . I even made you coffee.”

“Why would you make coffee?”

“To wake you up, silly!”

“We’re literally about to go out to a damn coffee shop.”

“That’s another coin for the swear jar.”

“Screw the fucking swear jar.”

“And that’s a whole dollar. Matt, I thought you knew better! We need this money to buy something at the shop!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, babe,” Matt rolled the rest of himself off the bed. Resting his palms on the cold floor, he began to push himself up, “Aaron’s fucking loaded. His rich ass is gonna pay for our food.”

“That’s two more bucks!”

Now on his feet, Matt glanced down at his boyfriend. Gill was fixing him with his usual bright smile. How could Matt resist that face?

“Fine, I’ll shove ‘em in the jar on our way out.”

“Good. Now let's not keep them waiting!”

Leaving their apartment and locking the door, Matt and Gill set out into the street.

“Matt, if we don’t walk faster, we’re going to be late!”

Matt sighed. Stretching his long legs, he began to powerwalk, grinning when he saw that Gill just couldn’t keep up.

Gill huffed, “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Well you’re the one who wanted to get there faster.” Matt thought for a moment, a devious smile spreading across his face.

“...Matt?” Asked Gill, suspicious.

“I guess the only solution to our problem is that I carry you.”

“Matt? Wait- Matt!”

Matt hefted the sputtering Gill over his shoulder, groaning slightly at the weight. Gill was by no means heavy, but Matt was not the strongest Inkling in Inkopolis. Still, he pushed on. The cafe was already in view. They both knew that Matt was just being silly, now.

“Matt- Matt! Put me down.”

“No.”

“Matt!”

“Come on, we’re almost there!”

“Damn it Matt-” Gill froze. Despite the fact that Matt could not see his face, he could tell his boyfriend’s eyes were comically wide as he processed what had just been said.

“I believe that’s money for the swear jar.”

Gill groaned. Matt set him down, as they had arrived at the cafe.

“Well,” said Matt, “let's not keep our buddies waiting.”

The chime of the bell above the door announced their entrance. Making their way to the usual booth, Matt and Gill slid in across from May and Aaron. Matt took a moment to watch the comical little scene the two created, with Aaron pestering May about something and May attempting to hide behind her menu.

“You can tell me anything,” Aaron had been saying, “I’m sure I could help with whatever it is that’s been bothering you lately.”

“Nothing has been bothering me lately,” May lied, obviously.

“That’s bullshit and you know it May- you’ve been really distracted during...” He glanced over to Matt and Gill, “...our outings.”

Matt was a little confused, but said nothing. Whatever May and Aaron got up to together really wasn’t his business.

“Outings?” Gill asked.

May blinked. “Yeah... outings.” She said after a moment. It was quite obvious from Aaron’s subtle glance to the side and May’s nervous tugging of her tentacle that neither she nor Aaron wanted to talk about the outings, whatever they were.

Gill, as usual, did not understand body language, and pushed forwards. “Are you two going on dates or something?”

Aaron burst out laughing. “D-dates,” he choked between giggles, “yeah- sure- our outings are definitely the sort of shit you do on dates. Right next to trying to kill someone.”

May’s giggling became the background noise for Gill’s next question.

“If you aren't going on dates with each other,” Matt could see the cogs turning in his head, compiling and recording the conversation, pulling up data and searching for a question, “do either of you have a crush?” It didn’t quite fit the topic, but Matt could see that Gill was doing his best, even though social interaction was so hard for him.

Aaron let out a bark of laughter, “maybe I would if I could talk to someone for more than two minutes. As it turns out, being a cashier doesn’t lead to immediate friendship after all.”

“It lead to us, though,” Gill retorted.

“Yeah, but not many people come to a supermarket at midnight to buy an  _ entire  _ shopping cart of groceries,” Aaron, laughed “I didn’t even know we had shopping carts before that. It’s such a small store. What about you May?” Aaron shifted in his seat, but May didn’t appear to be paying much attention to the conversation.

She had been oddly silent since Gill’s question.

“May?”

Slowly, a bright blush began to spread over May’s cheeks to the tips of her ears as she stared blankly at the table.

“Shit,” she muttered, barely audible against the clinking of silverware on porcelain plates in the background.

“May,” Aaron asked incredulously, “do- do you have a crush?”

“What? No. Why- why would I have a crush on someone? You guys are my only friends and-”

“You do! You really do! This must be why you’re so distracted.”

Matt grinned, “Come on May, who's the lucky person?”

“Tell us!” Gill demanded.

“Well... there is this girl...”

“Who is she? Do I know her?” Aaron grabbed May’s shoulders.

“No!”

“Will I get to meet her?”

“No- it’s not like it’ll work out anyway. She’ll go her separate way eventually and we probably won’t talk anymore...”

“There it is!” Gill proclaimed suddenly, standing up, “May’s negativity! We have to end it now!”

“Yeah,” Matt agreed, “we don’t want May to feel bad now, do we?”

“Come on May,” Aaron wrapped his arms around May, hugging her close to his chest, “let's all make a hug pile right now and annoy the negativity right out of her.”

Getting everyone into one side of the booth was a huge hassle. Matt found himself half standing, half sitting on the very edge, wrapping his long arms around the rest of the group.

“Your crush is definitely going to work out, May,” reassured Gill.

“Hell yes. We’ll even set you two up on a date. Just say the word and it’s done. Matt’s a master planner, it’ll be awesome,” Aaron added.

Matt was pretty sure they were getting weird looks from the other patrons. Removing his arms from the little cluster of friends, he stood.

“We should probably actually order something now,” Matt stated. “I think the waitress is a little annoyed.” Taking another look at the pile, he grinned to himself. There was May, looking like she might get crushed under Aaron, Aaron wrapped tightly around her, and Gill sort of piled on top of it all, smiling as brightly as the sun.

Taking a moment to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek, Matt addressed them.

“I’m going to go get a waitress now since nobody came to wait on us. Maybe we should tone the weirdness down.” He did not want people thinking badly of any of his friends, after all.

May nodded (or at least Matt thought she did) so Matt turned to find a waitress.

He needed his coffee.

* * *

 

Commander Kelp had not slept in four days. It was a testament to her past that even years later she could go for this long without food or rest.

She heard the soft footsteps of Mallory before she heard his usual meek knock on the door.

“Enter,” she commanded.

He came in, arms full with a stack of papers, which he set on her desk before taking his place off to the side, awaiting orders.

This was the part of leading an army Commander Kelp hated the most. The routine, uneventful, boring exchange of papers. It made her miss her days back in the field, when she had simply been a soldier.

Commander Kelp shook her head. Now was not the time for reminiscing. She had a job to do.

Selecting the first paper from the stack, she read it over, taking note of its significance as a report from the search for Octavio. She was heading it personally, having taken great care not to allow any of the generals near her project. She would not allow them to mess it up for personal gain, as she knew they would. The large workload was nothing she could not handle.

_ Inkopolis successfully infiltrated.  _ The report read.  _ Base established in abandoned building near lower end. No sign of DJ Octavio yet. No signs of large military presence. Have found and achieved contact with former squad mate Octoling Trooper Designation 8975 known as Lacey, previously declared MIA, thought most likely to be dead. Has possibly valuable information about Inkopolis. Appears to be very loyal to Octarians. Nothing else of import. _

_ -Squad 238 _

Commander Kelp leaned back in her seat. She had nearly forgotten about the small soldier who she had promoted only days before she had been seen taken by the Inkling. Kelp had thought she would be tortured for information, as she would have immediately done to such a prisoner, but it appeared this was likely not the case.

Which meant that Lacey would have either escaped or found... companionship with the Inkling. Scowling, Kelp turned to Mallory.

“Write up a message. High priority. To be immediately sent through radio to Squad 238.”

Mallory jumped as she spoke, startled. Quickly, he whipped out a notepad and a pen given to him expressly for this purpose. His fingers trembled slightly as he wrote.

“Keep contact with Trooper 8975, but be wary. May be working with enemy. Watch carefully and notify immediately of suspicious movement. Focus on main objective.”

Mallory finished writing and stared at her, but she did not go on.

“Well,” she snapped, “go deliver it.”

“R- right away, sir,” he nodded, and was out the door in a flash.

Lacey was a threat at worst, and an ally at best. It all depended on how the Inkling had treated her. There was no way of determining which until more information had been collected. If Lacey had managed to escape and was now living in Inkopolis, the Octoling would have useful intel and be an ally in the search for DJ Octavio.

Commander Kelp thought back to the inkling. If Lacey truly had found companionship with the creature, that would mean problems for the Octolings. If even one Octoling defected, not only would more consider defecting themselves, but the Octarians would investigate. They already controlled most of Octo-Valley, and if they came to her Octoling Corp. they would probably take it over as well. Commander Kelp would lose a good chunk of her power and the Octolings would lose what little they had that was left to themselves to the Octarians that had already taken so much. They had stomped on the Octolings after the war, simply because they resembled the Inklings that had stomped on them.

As far as Commander Kelp was concerned, the Octarians could take their superiority and shove it. She had other shit to worry about.

If Lacey had grown close to the Inking, then taking the Inkling out was paramount to Kelp’s success in the future. She had to remain in power, to hold the seat until DJ Octavio’s return.

On the other hand... the Inkling in question was Agent 3.

Capturing the Inkling responsible for so much loss, the Inkling most demonized in any propaganda, who probably held endless military secrets could not only boost the morale of her troops, but give her more political sway against the generals and the Octarians.

Turning her attention the the papers on her desk, Commander Kelp smiled grimly. Everything would go her way.

Whatever happened, she was the one who would come out on top.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is. Finally. The realization.  
> I don't have any confetti I've thrown it all already I'm sorry.


	24. In Which There Is A Not-Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you listen closely, you can hear me sobbing about writing deadlines in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally updating. Finally, after all these years, you can have the next chapter. I'm so, so, so, so, so, so sorry about missing the deadline. I'll reply to all of your comments after this don't worry.  
> I've just been so busy lately.  
> With that out of the way, lets just thank ReedRGale for being amazing as always.  
> Thanks dude, you really keep this fanfiction going.  
> And thank you guys, my amazing readers, for putting up with me as I slowly lose the ability to update on time.

May groaned, banging her head against the bathroom door. Just moments ago, she had run in here to hide from Lacey. This crush was going to ruin everything about their relationship.

"May?" Lacey had asked earlier, tentative in her movements. She seemed far more jumpy than a week ago. The thought that Lacey was still afraid of May, even just a little bit, hurt more than it should have. 

"Yeah?" May had replied, not looking up from the soaking device in her roller, for any sort of damage. Her ink had taken abnormally long to reabsorb, and she was worried something had broken.

There was always the chance that she hadn't been wearing a piece of gear with heightened ink recovery and wasn't used to the slower absorption, but May was pretty sure she had the right gear gear. Pretty sure.

"Do you think-" Lacey had wrung her hands, "Do you think we could go out sometime?"

"Wha- what?" May had squeaked, falling over despite being seated on the floor.

"I uh- I asked if maybe we could go outside sometime." Lacey had stuttered, clearly confused at May's jumpiness. Her eyes had darted all around the room, avoiding May.

It was obvious she thought May was overreacting. May had decided then and there that if Lacey ever found out about her dumb crush, she would want to leave. Perhaps she would try to stay, for May's sake, but something told her that Lacey would not remain in Inkopolis forever.

"S-sure," May had managed to say, "I'll just put away my roaking sevice. Soaking device. Fuck." May wanted to slap herself.

"Are you alright?" Lacey had asked, clearly concerned.

"Fine!" May exclaimed, scrambling to stand, "I'm fine!" And then she had left the soaking device on the floor and promptly sprinted to the bathroom. Which brought her back to the present situation.  
"Fuck," May groaned, "what am I going to do?" She had promised to take Lacey outside. In the middle of the day, probably. It would be good for Lacey to go out. She was probably bored in the dreary little apartment. It had been several months since she had first met Lacey, and the Octoling had only left the apartment building once the entire time.

Straightening her back, she decided to make it look like she had meant to run here, and began to rifle through her rapidly deteriorating wardrobe in her bedroom until she found what she was looking for.

A bundle of clothing now in her arms, she made her way back to Lacey.

"Put these on and we can go out right now." There. Now she didn’t look like a complete idiot. She had run off for a reason. Yeah.  
"In the middle of the day?"

"Why not? You could use a change of pace right now anyway."

Lacey removed her signature armor and put on the fraying tank top May had brought her, before shoving her arms through the sleeves of the grey coat. She stared at the beanie, confused, until May came over to help her.

"You've got to shove your tentacles into it," May said. Together, the two managed to fit most of the tentacles inside the beanie. Lacey would have to pull the hood of the coat over her head to cover her tangle of hair, and even then they still weren't done. May handed Lacey a pair of dark sunglasses to mask her eyes.

Wearing the sunglasses, Lacey seemed to resemble Callie and Marie in their civilian clothes, sort of like an undercover movie star attempting to stay far away from the paparazzi. Lacey looked adorable, making May blush without even meaning to.  
Figuring that the outfit was good enough, the two went to the door.

May led Lacey down the stairs and out the entrance to the apartment building. The octoling immediately inhaled the city air as though it were fresh. 

Inkopolis must have seemed so different to her, after all she had never traversed it under the bright sun. Inklings walked past, absorbed completely in their own lives. Lacey watched them with a small frown. Her hand came to grasp May’s as she stared at the crowd.

May flushed at the contact, feeling rather giddy. She had held hands with Lacey so many times before, yet it felt different this time. The touch seemed to be filled with energy, twisting through May’s entire body.

Lacey suddenly frowned. “Are you alright? Your heart rate has gone up.”

“I’m fine Lacey, just fine. Everything is fine.”

“If you need to stop you can tell me. It is rather hot out today.”

“N-no seriously, I’m fine!”

“Are you feeling dry anywhere?”

“No!”

“If you wouldn’t mind, please tell me if you do. I don’t want you to get the heat burns.”

“Heat burns?”

Lacey stared at the ground, “In my home, since everything is kept bottled up underground, it gets very hot very easily. The filters and conditioning systems can only do so much with our limited power. Sometimes it gets so hot that people will dry out, and even if it doesn’t kill you, it can leave heat scars from where your skin didn’t quite get hydrated.”

“I don’t think we get it that much up here.”

“I hope not. I-,” Lacey sighed, “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

May shared the sentiment. “Hopefully,” she said quietly, “you won’t have to be without me.”

“I’d like that.”

The two continued walking. May pointed out different sights to Lacey. Gradually, the mood seemed to lighten. It was all going so well.

Of course, something would go wrong.

Lacey bumped into him first, distracted by a display of cakes in the window of a cafe, tumbling to the ground. Luckily for them both, her hood remained on her head.

“Oh- I’m sorry!” said Aaron, concerned. “Let me help you up!”

He held out a hand. Lacey stared at it for a moment, unsure of what to do. She glanced to May, who nodded. Lacey took his hand and allowed Aaron to pull her up. It was then that Aaron’s gaze drifted from Lacey and slightly to the right, catching May’s eyes.

A grin lit up on his face. “May!”

“Aaron. I, uh, wasn’t expecting to see you today.” May wanted to slap herself. Of course she would run into Aaron  _ now _ . Of course she would.

“Neither was I.” He turned back to Lacey. “Who’s this?”

“A, uh, friend.”

“A friend, huh?” Aaron seemed suspicious, “who I’ve never met.”

May swallowed. Was it that obvious that Lacey was an Octoling? They had done such a good job at hiding it, too.

“Can I talk to May in private for a moment?” Aaron asked Lacey, grabbing May’s wrist. “It’ll only take a second. Here,” he pulled some money from his back pocket and pressed it into Lacey’s hand, “you were looking at the cakes, right? You should buy yourself something!”

He dragged May a little ways off down the street. May glanced nervously in Lacey’s direction. The Octoling was standing there awkwardly, staring at the money. Her hands were shaking. May regretted ever bringing Lacey outside. 

It had seemed like a good idea- Lacey was cooped up all day in May’s apartment with nothing to do. May had literally seen her do push ups for hours on end just to keep in shape. May had thought she could do something nice, make Lacey happy, spend time with her even. Bringing Lacey objects and food from outside just wasn’t enough anymore. Yet Aaron- Aaron was here and she hadn’t even thought of him ever meeting Lacey. It was a disaster waiting to happen. He  _ hated  _ Octolings more than anything. She would have to hide Lacey, or push her away, or something. He could just look closely and that would be it. Lacey would be screwed. Aaron would pull out a gun and try to  _ shoot  _ her or something. May would shield the Lacey, but Aaron would never speak to her again. She would lose her first real friend.

“May,” Aaron said gravely, fixing May with a look that snapped her from her thoughts.

“...yes?” May avoided his gaze.

“Is that-” May braced herself for the words, wondering just how she was going to explain herself to him. “-the girl you have a crush on?”

What.

May choked on the breath she had been holding in, coughing as Aaron gently hit her back.

“What?” May managed to ask.

“Is that the girl you have a crush on?”

Dumbfounded, May only nodded.

“She’s cute, I like her. I’d like to meet her to make sure she’s good enough for you.”

“You don’t have to do that.” May wheezed.

“She seems nervous around me anyway.”

“Yeah, she’s a little jumpy.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your date.” Aaron grinned.

May sputtered, “It- it isn’t a date!”

“Well maybe you should ask her on one then.”

“I told you, she doesn’t like me that way. Why would she?”

The grin faded from Aaron’s face. “Give yourself some more credit, May.”

“Sorry.” May glanced back for Lacey, only to see the Octoling had gone inside the cafe.

Aaron sighed, “Well, I won’t let you stay away from her for too long. Go hang out with your not-date.”

May groaned, but waved goodbye, turning back to see Lacey exiting the cafe, looking particularly flustered. In her hands was a chocolate cake.

_ A date, huh?  _ May thought as the two began the short walk back to May’s apartment,  _ that sounds nice. _

* * *

Inkopolis during the day was... interesting, to say the least. Lacey found herself just the slightest bit overwhelmed by the bustle of inklings, each a potential enemy. Having lived in a military compound for most of her life, the hustle and bustle was terrifying and exciting all at once. It took her back to her younger days, before she had been taken in by the Octoling Corp., running under legs to her factory job.

She bit into the cake, taking care not to get the sticky frosting on May’s jacket. The Inkling’s clothing was messy enough as it was, and she would not make May’s life awful with messy jackets.

_ May... _ she thought, and turned to look at the taller inkling, oblivious to her recent meetings with her old team. May was smiling, albeit weakly, but smiling nonetheless as the two walked together. That smile would likely fade if May ever found out about Lacey’s betrayal. 

She took a moment to wonder about the strange Inkling that appeared to be one of May’s friends. He seemed nice enough. For a while, Lacey had been scared he knew, but it was clear he suspected nothing from what May had told her about their conversation (which wasn’t much).

A particularly large building came into view.

“What’s this place?” Lacey found herself asking as she stared at the hulking glass windows of the building’s first floor.

“Oh this? This is the military building.” May said without a shred of hesitation. Lacey wanted to cry. She really did trust Lacey. It would be devastating for May to find out about what Lacey was going to do with this information.

Her old team members had been searching for this building, thinking it held DJ Octavio or at least information about him. Lacey knew they were wrong, that DJ Octavio was being held outside near some run down shack, but she wouldn’t tell them that.

Despite this, they would be a step closer to finding Octavio, and Lacey would be a step closer to regaining her old position. To going home.

Her ever growing resolve to have both May and her home strengthened even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot is really starting to pick up again.  
> I think I'm going to try to update every Monday night (watch that fail). If I miss a night, and the update doesn't come in the next few days, expect it the next week I guess.  
> Thank you again for reading this!


	25. In Which More Plot Unfolds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think I'm going to do away with the schedule. At this point I feel like it's only stressing me out and it isn't working for me anymore. I'm too busy now to be able to focus on it. Still, I'll try to update at least every two weeks.  
> Thanks as always, to ReedRGale for making sure the chapter is presentable, and thank you guys for being patient with me. Sorry it took so long. I'll try to reply to the comments I've missed as soon as I can.

Anthias scowled as he adjusted the scratchy collar of his uniform, watching the numbers of the elevator rise. He tapped his foot against the floor. The elevator beeped, opening. An Inkling, eyes glued to his phone, entered. 

The elevator doors closed again and it rose once more. Absently, Anthias began clicking the button of the floor he wanted over and over again, even as the other Inkling gave him a weird look. For once, Anthias forced himself to remember professionalism and did not flip him off in return.

Finally, the doors opened on Anthias’ floor. Stepping out of the elevator wordlessly, he ignored the Inkling who had gone back to his phone.

The floor was mostly empty, which made sense, seeing as the Inklings were not currently fighting any wars, and so the command center was barely in use- something Anthias would have to change. Still, Captains were required to come into work, mostly for reports, and Cuttlefish had to be there.

The old man was probably Anthias’ only ally against the oncoming Octarian invasion. They were probably entering Inkopolis through the sewers somewhere, setting up secret bases right now. He had to do something. Someone had to believe him, even if it was this crazy coot.

Captain Cuttlefish’s office came up on his right. Knocking on his door, Anthias waited, arms behind his back.

There was no answer. He knocked again, then peered through the small window into the office. It was dark inside, and there appeared to be a layer of dust over everything. When was the last time he had been in here? 

Anthias scowled. Tracking Cuttlefish down was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

“Can I help you, cadet?”

Anthias straightened his back and turned. In front of him stood a rather unimpressed-looking inkling in a uniform that set her apart as a high ranking officer.

“I’m looking for Captain Cuttlefish, sir.” Anthias said with respect.

The woman frowned. Her muddy brown eyes narrowed behind her glasses. Anthias caught a glimpse of a jagged scar trailing over her right eye. “He’s not here. He doesn’t usually come into work.”

“Do you know where I can find him, sir?”

“No.”

Anthias bit his lip to keep himself from snapping at the woman. It wouldn’t be good to yell at a superior officer.

“Why are you looking for him, anyway?” The woman eyed Anthias suspiciously.

She seemed wary enough. Anthias wondered if she would be the type to take him seriously. He glanced around the hallway, seeing that they were alone.

“I saw an Octoling in the city,” he nearly whispered.

The woman’s eyes flashed behind her glasses. “There hasn’t been an Octoling in Inkopolis in fifteen years.”

This was new information. “15 years? What happened 15 years ago?”

The woman’s dark skinned fists clenched by her sides. For a moment, Anthias expected he would get an answer.

“Oi, Kepa! What’re you doing hanging out with Private Anthias over there?”

The elevator doors had opened and Anthias hadn’t even noticed. General Cyprin, who had been the one to direct Anthias to Cuttlefish in the first place, stood grinning in the hallway. He looked as disheveled as ever.

The woman- Kepa- grimaced. “What are you doing here, General?”

“I’m just visiting my favorite captain,” he grinned, winking at her.

“No. Go away. Let me help this child.”

Anthias bristled. He was not a child! His hands clenched into fists but he refused to move. He had to stay calm. He had to stay calm. He had to  _ stay calm _ .

If he didn’t, he would never learn about the situation fifteen years ago. How was it not common knowledge?

“Wait, Anthias- you’ve actually gone to find Cuttlefish, haven’t you? I thought you’d given up.”

Anthias broke down. “I will never give up! Inkopolis is in danger!”

“Hey, calm down-”

“General, how about you leave us?” Kepa said with a scowl that could murder small children.

“You know you can’t order me around, Kepa.” General Cyprin grinned, winking flirtatiously. Anthias had never seen his General act so unprofessional before in his life.

“General,” warned Kepa, “go away.”

“Yes, go away please.” Anthias found himself grating out through the skin of his teeth. He was  _ so close _ to breaking down. He needed to punch something.

“Anthias, you can’t speak to your superior that way.” Quipped the General.

Anthias saw red. 

He was going to punch something. 

Nothing was going his way- Cuttlefish was gone, General Cyprin was here and didn’t respect him, Kepa continued to be interrupted, and he couldn’t even fucking  _ find  _ the Octoling he had sworn to find. He wanted to find out- he had to find out.

Kepa nodded her head to Cyprin. “You may want to leave, now.”

General Cyprin took one look at Anthias and promptly fucked right off without even attempting to scold Anthias again.

Well that was just fine with Anthias. One more moment and he would have been discharged due to attacking a superior.

Kepa grabbed Anthias’ shoulders with surprisingly gentle hands. “Hey kid, calm down. Just take a deep breath. Come on. With me.”

Following along with Kepa’s breathing, Anthias inhaled through his nose, and exhaled slowly. 

“It’s okay, kid.”

Reminding himself that he couldn’t punch his way to answers, he forced calm into his face.

“What,” he managed to ask, “happened 15 years ago?”

“An Octoling got into the city.”

“What happened to it? Why was it there?”

“...it was sent to its home.”

“But it’s an enemy of the inklings! Who knows what sort of information it had!”

Kepa’s eyes hardened. “You’re talking about things you don’t understand, kid. You should get out of here and back to whatever it is you army cadets get up to these days.”

“But-”

“Go.”

Kepa turned away from Anthias, ignoring his pleas, and entered the room next to Cuttlefish’s.

Anthias would have to come back later if he wanted to learn more. He frowned. Captain Kepa seemed to know something about the incident. He wondered what had happened.

He glanced at her door, turning away. He would come back later. Do some research. Figure out where to find Cuttlefish. And maybe... he clenched his hands into fists and made his way to the elevator. 

It was a stupid idea. 

He couldn’t. 

And yet... 

Captain Kepa’s office could have some sort of document; information on whatever it was that happened all those years ago. It wasn’t much of a lead, but it could be connected to the Octoling he had seen. It was something.

He had to figure this out. Inkopolis depended on him.

* * *

Don shoved his hands into his pockets, scowling as he stormed through the busy streets of Inkoplis. So what if everyone blamed him for getting them disqualified from the tournament? It was May’s fault. They should have been angry at May too. That’st how it was supposed to be. Right?

He sighed, pressing his back against the wall of a small grocery store, and stared at the cloudy sky.

He was so tired.

May had left and everything had hurt. He had never stopped seeing red, even after all this time. It was getting to be too much, even for him. 

Was this what Gravel had felt like when he had stopped arguing with Don? Like everything was heavy and twisted and wrong with no explanation why? Was this what Terra had felt like when she had stopped talking to Don? Would Sandy feel like this too, one day, all because of him?

No. It couldn't be his fault. It had to be May’s fault. She had cheated. She had screwed them all up by leaving. She had given up. Now they were giving up too. There was only Don now, with nobody who at least tried to understand this anger.

A sudden crack filled his ears. The clouds, which had been dark before, now released a storm. Inklings ran left and right frantically to find shelter. Rain burned painfully when it splatted you. He had to get out of the rain. The grocery store seemed like a good enough place. He stormed in, twisting immediately upon entry to the left, away from theregister so he wouldn’t have to talk to whoever was manning the counter.

The candy aisle sounded fucking fantastic. Perusing the manufactured, sugary goodness in shining wrappings, he found he didn't want anything at all. He was too pissed to think of anything but his own feelings.

All of the anger in him felt wrong, once everyone else had become angry at him. It had become something else now- hatred? Sadness? Who fucking knew?

He didn’t. He didn't even care.

A sudden rustling of cloth next to him announced the arrival of one of the store’s workers. He was restocking a box of round, disgusting, tentacle shaped candies that everyone but Don seemed to like.

A second glance revealed too much. It was the guy- the tall inkling with the blue eyes- one of May’s new  _ friends.  _ Had he left her after their confrontation? Don doubted it. They seemed to have some sort of misplaced faith in her. Don wanted to laugh. Surely, she would find some way to ruin things again.

The inkling noticed Don staring. His eyes widened immediately upon realizing just who stood in front of him.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Don snarled, hoping the guy would get the message and leave.

“You were staring first.”

“Go away.”

May’s (cursed, cursed) friend seemed to consider this. “No,” he said with a shrug, “I’ve got work to do here.”

Don snatched a bag of cheap chocolates and stomped from the aisle, determined to stay as far away from this creepy asshole as he could.

Somehow, he came face to face with him in the aisle. And the next aisle. And the next.

Was this guy  _ following  _ him? Didn’t he have  _ work  _ to do?

“No wonder you’re May’s friend,” he hissed at the snickering inkling, “you’re as awful as she is.”

The Inkling immediately sobered. “Hey,” he said, oddly serious, “don’t insult May.”

“Why not? She deserves it.”

“No, she really doesn't.”

“What would you know?”

“A lot more than you think.”

“But why would she tell you anything? May doesn’t- she didn’t- trust people!”

“She’s grown since you’ve known her.” Aaron fixed him with a look. It was the same sort of look Terra had given more and more- the look that made him want to shrivel up.

“But- she-” And there was that feeling again. It was as if the anger inside of him was remaking itself into something far, far worse. This was May’s fault. It was May’s fault. Wasn’t it? Everything always came back to May.

Don sighed, soft and low. Suddenly, Aaron’s expression changed from one of anger to ...concern?

“Hey, you okay?” Aaron’s voice lost its sharp tone as quickly as it had come.

“Why would you care? I hate May, remember? You should hate me.”

Aaron shook his head. “I don’t hate you. I’m frustrated with you for your treatment of her but I don’t  _ hate _ you for it.”

“Well, you should.”

“I think that’s bullshit,” Aaron said, and he offered Don a hand. “Here, you want some coffee or something? We have a ton of shitty grocery store coffee in here I can give you some for free.”

“What’s that supposed to do?”

“You look like a guy who needs coffee.”

“I don’t  _ need _ anything!”

Aaron simply left Don in whatever aisle it was they were in now and came back a moment later with a chair. Don was so confused by this point that he put up no resistance as Aaron gently pushed at Don’s shoulder, just allowed the strange Inkling to sit him down in the chair. Then he was gone, cheerfully going off to make his shitty coffee, leaving Don nothing to do but stare at the rain out of a window.

Strange- rain certainly hadn’t been in the forecast.

He was suddenly met with a face full of steam.

“Gah!”

Aaron gave a small laugh as he pressed the hot paper cup into Don’s hands. Squinting, Don gave the cup a suspicious look. What was this guy up to, anyway?

“It’s just coffee.”

Don took the cup and stared at it. The warmth permeated his entire hand.

“Alright,” Aaron said, “you looked really upset just now. You wanna talk about it?”

“Why would I tell you anything?”

Aaron shrugged. “I don’t like it when people are hurt.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“You seem pretty hurt right now. I’m thinking, if I try hard enough, maybe I can help you get better.”

Don chugged the entire cup of coffee. It burned as it when down his throat. “I don’t need any of your help!”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t be here with it.”

“Fuck you!” Don stood up, storming to the doors. He didn't care if it was raining. He had to get out of there, away from this crazy guy shoving his damn nose where it didn’t belong. Don didn’t need any help. He was fine! He was fine! What did this moron know?

The rain had stopped when he’d left. He didn’t look back at the grocery store with the shitty coffee he hadn’t needed and the chocolate he hadn’t paid for.

_ There is no way _ , he thought bitterly,  _ that I will ever be coming back here. _

* * *

“So we go in here,” Iola pointed to a window on the rough sketch Lacey had drawn of the Inkling’s military facility. It sat in the middle of the five Octolings, all on top of May’s apartment building, “and then- I don’t know, get captured? We don’t know anything about this building. This is bad intel, Lacey.”

Lacey sighed. “I’m sorry... I’ve never been inside before. I don’t know how it works.” She would have asked May, but that felt like using the Inkling too much. May was more than a tool to Lacey and she refused to use her as one.

“We can figure it out.” Yucca said, “We need to do this. For the good of the Octarians.”

“For the good of the Octarians,” Chalcedony echoed, “and the good of the Octolings.”

“Under or above, we are the ones who fight,” Verbena continued the Octoling pledge.

“To protect what we love,” Lacey continued, immediately thinking of May. Would doing this protect May? This was for more than just herself, now. If her old team trusted Lacey, she could make them see that inklings weren’t so bad. And then, May would stay with her, and she could still go home to her people. She had to keep what made her happy. She was gripping tight to May, and she  _ would not let go. _

“And what we know is right.” Iola finished. Lacey knew her plan was right.

“If we spend a few days scouting around, maybe we could find a better entrance?”

“Or maybe...” Lacey thought for a moment. Would the building have a map of its layout inside of it? May was in the military, wasn’t she? Perhaps she could get May to find her a map. But that would be using her. She couldn't- she didn’t want to-

Yucca seemed to sense Lacey’s thoughts. “What is it, Lacey? Do you have an idea?”

“I may be able to procure a map but... it’ll be difficult.” Lacey began to hate herself With every word.

She almost didn’t notice the odd looks the team gave her,

“Then we’ll wait to infiltrate the building until you have the map.” Yucca said without missing a beat.

“I look forward to hearing how you get it,” Iola said. She stood up, tall and thin compared to everyone else, and began packing up her equipment.

They were suspicious of her.

“I will do my best.” Lacey told them, without so much as a twitch to reveal her nervousness. This is what she was trained in, and despite her lack of confidence in herself, she  _ had  _ been good enough to make it onto a squad with Commander Kelp.

“Then we’ll see you in a few days. I trust you’ll have the map by then.” Captain Yucca stood as well. The rest of the team followed.

“Yes sir,” Lacey nodded.

“You’re dismissed, Private.”

Lacey turned to the door leading down to her and May’s apartment. Just as she began to open it, a voice stopped her.

“Be careful, Lacey” it was Verbena, “I think you may have noticed, but everyone is watching of you. One misstep, and Yucca will have to arrest you. She won’t like doing that.”

“No,” Lacey said, opening the door, “she won’t.”

With one last glance, she shut the door behind her and began her walk to the apartment. She had to get that map, she had to gain their trust, and she couldn't tell May about it. She had to protect her.

With a start, Lacey felt the urge to see May again, and make sure she was okay. May was asleep when Lacey opened the apartment door softly, quietly, as not to wake her and padded to the sofa. 

She looked exhausted. May always-  _ always _ \- seemed to overwork herself. Lacey barely saw it happen. But May would come home, tired and hungry, and Lacey would do her best to help.

Like right now. Here May was, sleeping on the sofa when there was a perfectly fine bed to be sleeping in. Lacey leaned over May, crouching, and pushed her arms carefully under May’s body. With a huff, she lifted May, cradling her in her arms, before carefully maneuvering her through the apartment and to the bed. 

Placing May on its comfortable sheets, she stopped to stare, just a little bit, then pulled the blankets over the Inkling.

Without a thought, she leaned over, pressing a kiss to May’s brow.

She never wanted to lose this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, tension is building. And it's only going to go up from here. The third arc has barely begun.


	26. In Which Aaron Does Aaron Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also Titled: In Which The Author Did Not Intend For It to Take Like A Month to Write This Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here. The next chapter. After 3000000000000 years.  
> It feels like all I ever do in these author's notes is complain about how I can't be a timely person anymore.  
> Well er, anyway, ReedRGale was my beta and I thank him for making this chapter actually good (it needed a serious tune up) and I hope you guys like it?

Printing out a map of the Military Building for Lacey had been relatively easy. It had taken May a few minutes to get it from their website. After that, she only needed to head to the copier store to get it printed, then maybe drop by the grocery store to talk to Aaron.

Then she would get to see Lacey. Her heart throbbed with nervousness and excitement.  _ Lacey _ . It would be so nice to see her smile. She had seemed down lately, and May was going to cheer her up if it was the last thing she did.

“May! Hey- hey May!” May turned around, only to see one of Don’s team members- Sandy, if she was correct, standing before her.

May took a step backwards, wary. “Can I help you?”

“I hope so.” Sandy sighed. “I need your help.”

“What do you possibly need  _ me  _ for? Don’t you have a tournament final to win?”

“That’s the thing. We were kicked out.”

“Why?”

“Well, this is what I need help on,” Sandy went on, “It was Don- Don got us kicked out. He’s just- he’s so angry now all the time, I’m worried he’ll hurt himself. None of us know what to do and you- you were pretty close to him, right? I thought you might have some ideas.”

May froze. “I...” she trailed off. Don was the last person May wanted to be thinking about.

“I really need your help,” Sandy begged, desperately, “I need something,  _ anything _ to know how to fix him.”

“I barely know Don anymore. I don’t know who he is, or what he needs, or anything.” May sighed. “And I don’t want to see him right now. It still hurts to think about what happened.”

“It changed him a lot.”

“Yeah,” said May, resigned. “He’s not like he was as a kid at all.”

“Still,” Sandy pleaded, “you don’t even need to go anywhere; any advice you have would be helpful to me. Gravel and Terra and I- we don’t know what to do anymore. He avoids us all the time, and he won’t listen to a word we say.”

Shrugging, May pulled her sweater further over her shoulders. “When we were kids, he never really got angry.”

She could still remember so many incidents where he should have been angry but hadn’t been.

_ “D-Don, I uh, I think I broke your ink gun-” _

_ Don came up to her, examined the gun, smiled a bit. “That’s okay, May. It wasn’t your fault. I can get this fixed in time for the tournament. We’ll be okay.” _

But it had been her fault. That time, she had broken into the gun to get a piece from it, something she had needed for her modded roller. She had felt sick, lying like that, but she had reasoned that it was better than seeing him upset because they had lost.

“But,” May continued, “it took a lot for him to listen to me back then, too. He was sort of lost in his own world. Usually, it took a lot of prodding for him to even acknowledge a problem.”

“Well, he hasn’t changed much there.”

“I guess not. Sorry I wasn’t much help.”

“Well, thanks anyway,” Sandy shrugged, “everything helps, right?”

May nodded. She turned, waved back at Sandy, and left to go find Aaron. She sort of needed to talk to him, now.

* * *

Taking a moment to catch her breath in front of the door, Sandy steeled herself, clenching her hands into fists.

Prodding. Right. She could do prodding. She wasn’t sure how, but she could. Terra and Gravel were on her side. They would help.

She opened the door. “Don.”

Don looked up from where he was camped out on the sofa. “Sandy.”

“We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to talk about.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“Is this about May? If this is about May, I don’t want to hear it. She’s done nothing but ruin my life.”

“May is a perfectly decent Inkling and-”

“So you’re taking  _ her  _ side now?” Don’s eyes flashed.

“No- Don-”

“Just let it go Sandy!”

“How about  _ you  _ let it go!”

“I can’t! I can’t just forget what she did to me!”

The kitchen door opened. Out stepped Terra, and behind her, Gravel, watching silently as they always did. Sandy sighed. They probably weren’t going to be any help.

“It doesn’t work like that!” Yelled Don, “I can’t forget when I’ve been hurt.”

Terra glanced off to the side. Her fingers clenched at her skirt.

“Is there something you want to say, Terra?” Sandy asked. She needed backup, and Terra looked torn between helping Sandy and staying out of it. 

Terra glanced at Gravel. Gravel glanced at Terra. There was a silent deliberation.

“You’ve forgotten that you weren’t her only victim.” Terra said, slowly and hesitantly.

“Do you see Terra and I pissed off at her?” Gravel added with a scowl.

Don blinked. “None of you knew her like I did! I was the one she hurt the most!”

“Do you really have to resent her for the rest of your life?” Sandy reasoned.

“What kind of stupid question is that? I won’t stop- I’m not going to stop- I can’t stop and you can’t make me stop!”

Terra tugged on both of her tentacles, looking uncharacteristically frustrated.

“Well then,” she cried suddenly, “what do you expect us to do! Just accept that you’re going to be angry and pissed forever? Your tantrum is making the rest of us feel awful!”

“The rest of us? The rest of us? Who the fuck is us anymore? You? What about Gravel?” Don suddenly looked to him, “you’ve barely said anything this whole time! Just one measly sentence! Are you going to yell at me too? You just follow Terra around blindly!”

Gravel stepped back as though slapped.

“You’re awful!” Terra yelled. “You’ve become just awful!”

“You can blame May for that!”

“And now you bring us back to May,” groaned Sandy, “May this, May that, May May  _ May _ ! Do you ever think about anything other than how much you hate her? Is that all you are now?”

“Yes!” Don snarled.

“What kind of bullshit answer is that?” Terra’s voice somehow escalated. “You’re just accepting it?”

“What else do you expect me to do?”

“I don’t know! Anything other than just accepting that you’re going to hate May forever!”

“I resent her- I hate her- I can’t think of anything else!” Don’s hands clenched into fists. “None of you understand me or anything I’ve been through! You don’t listen! You  _ never  _ listen!”

“All you do anymore is scream about May!”

Before Don could even retort, Gravel cut in. “You hate her so much you don’t even care about us anymore!” He yanked Don by the shoulder. “You’re being a selfish little  _ baby _ right now, that’s what I think!” Knocking Don backwards, towards the door, he continued. “Well selfish people like you can just  _ leave! _ ” Before Sandy knew what was happening, Gravel had pushed Don outside.

Terra started, “Gravel-”

“Come back when you get over May.” And on that final note, he slammed the door. Turning, Gravel stormed his way into the living room.

“Gravel,” Terra tried again, only to be interrupted.

“I hate him so much,” Gravel snarled. “I wish I’d never met him.” He stomped into the kitchen, slamming the door.

Don slammed on the door. “Gravel you piece of shit- let me in!”

Sandy went to get the door, and then wished she hadn’t. Terra was glaring at her.

“Terra?” Sandy asked, horrified.

Terra only sighed, resigned. “That was a long time coming.”

“We’re just kicking him out?”

“I don’t think he’ll listen to us any other way.” She shrugged. “It’s for his own good, see?”

“But Gravel-”

“Gravel is upset. Having Don here will just upset him more and then nothing will get done.”

“Gravel!” Don cried out. “Terra!”

“I don’t like this,” Sandy said, “I’m going to let him back in.”

Terra caught her wrist. “I don’t like it either. Don is my brother, and I have to look out for him. But if he stays here for even one more minute, this whole place will explode with all the tension.”

“Sandy! Sandy! Please!” There was a sickening crack in Don’s voice. It sounded so broken, all of a sudden.

“I need to calm Gravel down now.” Terra said. Promptly, she turned back into the kitchen.

Sandy stared at the door. 

_ Prodding, huh,  _ she thought.

“Sandy- Gravel- Terra- I-  _ Please!  _ I have nowhere to go!”

Sandy took a daring step forwards, leaning against the door. “I don’t think you should come back in, Don.”

“Sandy- I- what!?”

“If you come back in, I think Gravel will just kick you out again. And I think he may be a bit right. You’re behavior is hurting the rest of us. I personally don’t agree with this but- there isn’t much I can do. Here.”

Sandy slid a wad of cash under the door.

“Go and find yourself a hotel to stay in for the night or something. I can help you find your own place tomorrow. Right now I- I’m really tired.” And she was.

“Sandy-”

“Just go, Don.”

Silence.

Sandy slid down the door, resting her face in her knees. The feeling that she had just done something terrible was like an anchor in her gut, and she knew it would not go away anytime soon.

_ I hope you know what you’re doing, Terra.  _ Sandy thought.

If Don didn’t hate her by tomorrow morning, she would help him find a place to stay.

* * *

Don wasn’t sure what had brought him back to the grocery store. He just- he needed to go somewhere,  _ anywhere, _ and it was the first place that had come to mind.

He stood in front of the automatic doors, too far away to be detected, and stared at the empty checkout counter. There was nobody there. Then, from around the corner, came two inklings.

Aaron... and May. They were smiling.

A little late, Don realized, they were walking to the door. May must have been just leaving and Aaron was probably walking her out.

Then they left the grocery store, and Don watched as May’s eyes went wide with recognition and her smile faded.

Don let out a shaky breath, watching as it condensed into a puffy cloud.

May’s nervous stare shook Don.

He wondered- he wanted-

_ It’s starting to get colder now, _ he noted, a bit feebly.

Don tried to yell at May, to scream at her, to blame her for what had just happened. But he couldn’t. He found he was frozen to the spot, unable to look away from the person he hated most in the world.

_I hate him so much,_ _I wish I had never met him._ Gravel had muttered. Don had heard through the door.

He had thought that about May for so long- and now someone so close thought that about him.

“Don,” May asked shakily, “what are you doing here?”

He had no idea. He couldn’t tell her  _ I got kicked out because I hate you so damn much.  _ Not in front of Aaron; not in front of May. She would laugh at him, would hate him back, would ruin the last piece of dignity Don had left.

He wanted-

“Are you back to tell me how much you hate me again?”

He wanted-

“When will you leave me alone?”

He wanted-

“Don?”

He had no idea what he wanted.

“I think I’m going to head home,” he heard May say. It sounded muffled, far away.

“You alright?” Aaron asked. Don could barely hear him over his own heart.

“Could be better.” May muttered, quietly.

“Do you need me to call you later?”

“I think I’ll be okay.”

“Alright, but if you need anything just call me.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna help Don out now.”

“Yeah, alright. I’ll see you later, Aaron.”

“Goodbye, May.”

Footsteps. Suddenly, there was a hand on his wrist. He startled at the contact.

“You okay?”

Moving was just a little easier, with May gone.

“Hey- Don, talk to me here. Is everything alright?”

Don wasn’t sure how to answer. 

“Here, why don’t you come inside.” A hand found its way onto his shoulder, comforting where Gravel’s had been bruising.

Warmth rushed around him as the two entered the grocery store. Absently, Don found himself being seated. Pressing his arms against the counter, he shoved his face in the crooks of his elbows.

“I’m going to make you some coffee, alright?”

Don curled up further and hated something. He found it wasn’t May. All of a sudden, he couldn’t bring himself to hate May anymore. He had done that, and look at what it had gotten him. Just three lost friends and nothing.

He was supposed to be angry. He was supposed to blame May. That’s how it went. How it always went.

Then why wasn’t he angry? Why wasn’t he blaming May? He blamed her for everything. Sandy, Gravel, and Terra had thought it was wrong. Hating May was all he ever did. Was that wrong? Had he been wrong?

Without his hate, what was he?  _ Who _ was he?

He didn’t know. 

There was nothing now.

“Here’s your coffee,” said a voice. It didn’t matter who it was- just another person who hated him. Something was placed on the counter in front of his arms.

“Did something happen?” asked the voice. The hand came back, pressed gently against Don’s arm. He looked up. Aaron- he had forgotten about him- had a concerned look on his face. 

Don nodded absently. Pressed his hands around the coffee cup. Felt the warmth in his hands.

There was a sudden pattering on the roof. It was raining again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Don shook his head.

“I-” he said. His voice cracked. He felt like crying.

Instead, he looked away, stared out the window at the rain pouring down on Inkopolis. May was out in that rain. Had she made it home without getting splatted? 

It was his first thought in years about May that wasn’t saturated with hatred.

“Don?”

“I-”

His hands tightened around the flimsy paper cup, crushing it. Coffee spilled out on his fingers. He didn’t care.

“Take your time. You don’t need to rush yourself.”

Don looked back to Aaron. The inkling was  _ smiling _ . Don thought back to the things he had said, to Sandy, Terra and Gravel. When was the last time anyone had smiled at him? They never smiled at him. They looked, and all they saw was his hate.

Yet this guy was  _ smiling  _ at him.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Aaron’s was suddenly by Don’s side. “Do you want me to give you a hug, or something? Will that help?”

Don shrugged. Aaron took Don up in his arms and Don buried his face into Aaron’s chest. His arms hung loosely at his sides. Trembling, Don lifted his arms to wrap them around Aaron. How long had it been since he had been hugged, anyway?

“Yeah see? It’s all good.”

Don struggled to form a coherent sentence. “No- it’s not good- I don’t have anywhere to go, I don’t have anyone-” 

“Hey,” Aaron gave Don a soft smile, “that’s not true. You have me, don’t you?”

“But- you-  _ May- _ ”

“May knows I’m helping you. I told her I was going to.”

“When’d you decide that?”

“A bit after you left the store the other night. You need help, and I’m going to give it, alright?”

“But-”

“It’s too late now, man. You’re stuck with me.” Aaron’s voice softened. “You can crash at my place, alright?”

Don nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaron is the nicest character in this entire story. He is the sort of guy who helps the elderly cross the street and will stop traffic so that a little bird can waddle across the road and he probably has a supply of candy in his pockets to give to small children and/or May.


	27. In Which There Is A Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tfw u accidentally go on hiatus  
> No but seriously guy's I am so, so sorry about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!  
> Sorry it took so long. School just sort of caught up with me, and I didn't have time for anything anymore. It sucked. It's summer now though, so hopefully I can update more. I plan to finish this fanfiction by the end of the year, if everything goes well (yeah, like that'll happen).  
> Okay, so thank you ReedRGale for still being my beta- and thank you guys for being so patient and supporting of me! You really are the best.

The afternoons before May came home were always Lacey’s least favorite times of the day. It was too early to go to the roof, as it was still light out and Lacey would be easily spotted, so there was nothing to do except sit around, exercise, and wait.

While waiting, time always seemed to slow down. Honey-colored light would stream in through the window, floating dust visible in its wake. Lacey often found herself lazing about in the warmth of it, staring out the glass at the blue sky just tinted with a hint of gold, and a little bit of pink that reminded Lacey of May’s eyes. Lifting a hand, she would scatter the dust, watch it move as though in water.

Sometimes, Lacey would exercise- run in circles around the apartment, or do pushups, situps, anything to keep her mind sharp. Idleness only made her wish for May to come home more. The thought of being with May, of holding her close, of just seeing her, gave Lacey a warm feeling in her gut. It was a feeling that boredom only ever seemed to add to. It didn’t weigh her, but she felt no lighter either. Sooner or later, the feeling would cause problems for her.

She couldn’t hide her love for May from the Octolings forever. They would find out eventually. Lacey had to make them trust her, so that they would trust May as well, when the time came. If only it were as simple as a few conversations. If only she didn’t have to use May like she was, making the inkling gather information without telling her what for or why.

The worst part was, May had agreed to it without asking any questions at all. She trusted Lacey so much, and here she was, technically betraying her.

The guilty Octoling heard May’s footsteps echoing down the hallway before she heard the click of the door handle. May’s door flew open with its usual flair, hit the wall, and recoiled back.

“May!” Lacey smiled, sitting up from her place on the sofa.

“Hey, Lacey,” May said, dejected. Lacey’s smile faded.

“Are you okay?” Lacey asked,. “You look pale. Are you sick?”

May shook her head. “Not sick. Just... shaken.” She walked over to Lacey, handing her a manilla folder. Lacey peeked within, seeing the map. She placed it on the coffee table.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

May sat. “Can you just... stay here for a moment?”

“Of course.”

Leaning, May pressed her cheek against Lacey’s shoulder, closing her eyes. Lacey froze at the contact. She found herself staring down at May.

After a quiet silence, May spoke.

“I saw him again... that friend from a long time ago. I thought he would yell at me again but- he was so different. Something must have happened. It was unsettling.”

“I’m sorry.”

Lacey pressed her fingers to May, massaging her thumb gently into the skin. The closeness was pleasing, though May’s current emotional state was not.

Lacey would stay with her until her friend felt better.

“You want some cocoa?” Lacey suggested.

May shrugged. “I don’t really want much of anything right now.”

Unsure of what else to do, Lacey stood. May glanced up, frowning. Lacey offered her a smile, and May smiled weakly back.

“I’ll make you something,” Lacey said. “Here.”

Entering May’s room for a moment, she pulled a blanket from the bed, dragging it over to her friend. As May began to curl up in it, Lacey turned to the kitchen. She knew exactly which cupboard held what she wanted, opening it and pulling out a chipped mug with a picture of Squid Cannon on it. Placing it on the counter, she grabbed a packet of cocoa mix and dumped it into the mug.

Lacey was unsure just when she had graduated from watching May cook to doing it herself. She was just glad that she could do something like this for her crush.

Moments later Lacey returned with a steaming mug. The cozy-looking Inkling accepted it, and as she brought the cocoa to her steaming lips, Lacey gently lowered herself at May’s side.

“Thanks.” May said, nearly inaudible. Her smile as she sipped the cocoa was soft, but to Lacey it was more brilliant than ever before.

* * *

 

Night drew. May fell asleep stretched out on the sofa. Lacey kissed her forehead, grabbed the map, and slipped to the roof. She had work to do.

“I have the maps,” she said when she arrived.

Verbena beamed. “Now we can work on the plan.”

“Yes yes, we’re all very excited,” Chalcedony muttered, “now sit down.”

Lacey sat near them, laying the map out as best she could.

“So,” Yucca began, “where would we find information of the location of DJ Octavio?”

They all took a moment to think.

“Captain Cuttlefish,” Verbena said after some time had passed, “he was the guy that ended the war originally, wasn’t he?”

“DJ Octavio swore vengeance upon him,” Chalcedony informed her. “When the DJ attacked, he kidnapped him. There are no records on what happened after that. All we know is that Octavio is gone and that the last Octoweapon was destroyed.”

“How about we search Cuttlefish’s office? There could be information there.” Suggested Verbena.

“Then we enter through the east side of the building.” Pointing to a fire exit on the map clearly labeled in Inking script, Iola trailed her finger down a possible path. “That leads us right to the Captain’s floor.”

Yucca nodded. “We move at midnight tomorrow. I trust you can find a weapon by that point, Lacey?”

They turned to Lacey, who unlike them had her face uncovered, her armor removed, not a single weapon strapped to her belt, nor a canister for ink. Suddenly, she felt very out of place among them- as if she was a knife too small for its sheath, able to slip from its cover without so much as a jolt.

She nodded anyway, determined. “I’ll be prepared.”

* * *

 

The hardest nights for Anthias were the ones where nothing happened at all. He’d sit somewhere, camera in hand, and wait and wait and wait for an Octoling sighting that might never come. Sometimes he’d find some jerks doing something illegal and try to stop them. Fighting thugs like that felt fulfilling, in a way. Other times, he would go to the ring and beat some guy up. Then he’d get beaten up himself. Even with his wounds, he’d feel giddy.

Those nights were his favorite. He loved them. The rush of adrenaline, the feeling of flesh giving out under his fist, the harsh, sweaty heat and the cool blood dribbling down his lip. 

He didn’t have to fight his anger- he just had to fight. He would go home covered in bruises, falling asleep in his dirty sheets to the sounds of his clock tick-tick-ticking away.

This was not any of those nights.

Anthias sighed, leaning back in his plastic chair as he watched his clothing spin in the washing machine. Around and around and around it went, infuriating and yet calming at the same time. 

Nothing had happened since he had seen the Octoling. There was no news. He had no help. The only lead he had was some tangential incident that had happened 15 years ago. At this point Anthias didn’t  _ care.  _ He needed something, anything, to keep him going.

So, Kepa’s office it was. Break in, look for something, leave. Easy.

Anthias snorted at the thought. Like anything in his life was ever  _ easy. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, I have some good news. The next chapter is almost done. It just needs editing. I'm either going to post it in the next few days or I'm going to wait about a week so I can prepare the chapter after that.


	28. In Which The Storm Arrives (Metaphorically)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I couldn't help it. I really had to update again. Even though I just updated yesterday.  
> The wait for the next chapter is gonna be a little longer than one day though. I still have to write it, after all.  
> ReedRGale is my amazing beta reader, you guys are my amazing readers, thank you!
> 
>  
> 
> Well buckle up guys this chapter's a long one.

It was the middle of the night when May woke with a start. She had heard something.

“Lacey?” she called out to the darkness, “is that you?”

There was no answer.

May stood up, pushing her blankets off the sofa and to the floor. Carefully maneuvering through the dark room, she made her way to the bedroom door.As quietly as she could, May opened it.

The bed was empty.

“Lacey?” May called again.

Silence.

Numbly, May shut the door. She walked calmly back to the living room. Lacey had probably gone to the roof. She loved it up there. May smiled to herself.

Perhaps it was time to join her.

* * *

 

The arrival of the Octolings to May’s roof was announced by soft footsteps barely concealed by the wind. Lacey glanced at them from where she had been watching the city lights. A frown marred her features. 

Absently, she brought a hand up to run against the mask she wore over her eyes, matching their own except for the scar that May had scratched over it. It had felt like ages since she had last worn it, ages since May had torn it off, even though it had not really been that much time at all.

It had been her first true look at May- her first time seeing her as a  _ person  _ with emotions instead of the monster she had always been taught an inkling was.From there, Lacey had swore she would not fight anymore. Yet here she was, fighting to go home.

May would surely hate her if she found out.

“Are you going to stand there all night or are we going to get to work?” Snapped Chalcedony, startling Lacey from her thoughts.

“Y-yeah. Sorry.”

“Just keep your focus, soldier.” Yucca smiled. It looked strange- the cheerful smile against the expressionless uniform mask.

“Of course.”

“Well then,” Verbena pressed her hands together, “shall we go see about saving DJ Octavio?” Tonight was the night, after all. The night Lacey had been planning for so long. Tightening her grip on a Splattershot she had pilfered from May, Lacey nodded.

“I’m ready.”

“Let’s go then.”

The five Octolings lined up at the edge of the building. Just across a small jump was another roof. Iola was the first to go, sprinting straight over the edge to land with no sound in a professionally executed roll. Lacey followed immediately after, then the rest, and they were off on their mission.

* * *

 

May frowned. The roof was empty.

* * *

 

Anthias stayed late in the military building that night. There were only a few security guards, none of which would look twice at him when he was in uniform with some random papers in his hands. He would just look like a cadet staying after hours to work. Which he was. Sort of.

Making his way back to Captain Kepa’s floor, feeling a mixture of calm and tension, he wondered just what information he would find. Could be anything. Could be nothing. She wouldn’t just happen to keep a newspaper clipping from 15 years ago lying around. He would have to search incredibly carefully to find anything at all-  _ if  _ there even was anything at all.

_ Even then, _ he thought, clenching his hands into fists,  _ will the incident even be relevant?  _

The elevator doors opened. Anthias made his way to her door. The room was unlit..

Getting to one knee, Anthias pulled a lockpick from the pocket of his uniform. After a few minutes, there was a satisfying click as the door unlocked. He pushed it open.

Despite being in use, the room smelled like a musty book. Anthias clicked on a small flashlight, and began his look around.

He made his search quick and thorough. There was nothing of use on Kepa’s desk- why would there be? Her drawers were next. Carefully, with gloved hands, he opened each drawer and looked through the documents. Nothing.

Scowling, Anthias continued his search. Kepa had a shelf off to the side, filled- for some odd reason- with old books. Getting closer, Anthias realized these was the source of the musty smell. There was a layer of dust them, as though they had not been touched in a very long time.

Running a finger over the faded titles, most of which were scientific journals and research studies, his eyes widened when he caught one not written in any inkling dialect. It was thinner than the others, the words along the binding written in thick marker. Suspicious, he pulled it from its spot on the shelf and dusted off the cover.

_ Journal _ read the title, written in an Octarian dialect.

The lights flickered on. “I figured I’d catch you here eventually, kid.”

Anthias stiffened. Turning, he saw Captain Kepa leaning against the doorway, expression unreadable.

“Well,” she continued, “aren’t you going to read it? You obviously came to find something suspicious, and now you have.”

“What is it?”

Kepa was silent.

“Does it have anything to do with what happened 15 years ago?”

The silence stretched further. Anthias began to fidget under Kepa’s gaze.

Kepa switched the lights back off. “Come on, kid. Go home.”

Giving Anthias a pointed look, she left the room. He felt rather compelled to follow, still clutching the journal in his hands. Kepa stopped suddenly, frozen.

It was about then that everything that Anthias had been working to accomplish for the past month spilled into his lap and he didn’t even have his camera to take a photo for evidence. There were five Octolings running down the hallway, directly at him.

* * *

 

Lacey jumped into action immediately. Fighting came as a second nature to her, as easy as breathing. Aiming May’s splattershot, she fired a few rounds at the Inklings in the hallway, forcing them back. Behind her, the squad had taken up a standard formation- two in front and two in back, systematically inkling the floor as they went.

The taller, older inkling unhooked a gun from her belt, forcing Lacey to roll in order to dodge the inkling’s return fire. Biting her lip, Lacey found her footing and retaliated.

The squad joined her, ready to make quick work of the Inklings, keeping far enough back not to hinder each other in the cramped hallway.

Just as Lacey turned to fire at the taller Inkling once again, the shorter one jumped right over the turf Lacey had prepared and decked her right in the face. Her head swung back and the rest of her body with it. 

Instinctively, she curved herself preparing use the momentum to roll backwards, but the inkling caught on, pushing another punch into her before she could do anything. Lacey slammed to the ground, disoriented.

Rolling up to her feet again, Lacey found herself face to face with the taller inkling. She barely had the chance to move before the gun was ripped from her grasp and the Inking had slammed her against the wall, a foot to her back, her arm twisted against the joint

Something in her back  _ tore.  _ The pain was immense- Lacey felt like she was dying, being impaled all over again. The sound of gunfire in the distance seemed to grow as she slipped from  consciousness. Distantly, she was aware of something wet trailing down her lips. Her legs did not move when she told them to. Everything around her was fuzzy, slow. She blinked uselessly. Her head ached.

She could barely even think. Was she dying? Would she ever see May again?

It was then that her vision faded completely, and she lost all feeling altogether.

* * *

 

Anthias sprinted down the hallway, growling. He hadn’t brought a gun- hadn’t been expecting to need it. Now he was regretting that decision, as he watched five Octolings slowly shrink into the distance. They had grabbed the one Kepa had knocked out- whatever Kepa had done had stopped that Octoling’s movements entirely.

There was still ink on his body from where he’d been hit. Were he to pursue closer they would be shooting at him. If he was splatted, he would be unable to apprehend the Octolings he had seen in the first place. But if he didn't go after them, the Octolings would get away and he’d be back at square one.

A blur ran past him- Captain Kepa, finally getting down to business. She had frozen for a moment, after incapacitating that Octoling, but she must have gotten her bearings. 

Easily dodging the ink fired at her, Kepa lunged forwards into the closest Octoling’s legs. They slammed together into the floor. Repeating the technique she used to incapacitate the first Octoling, Kepa skillfully snapped the Octoling’s arm. The Octoling released a strangled noise. Blood spurted from its mouth and it ceased to move.

2 down, 3 to go.

The black tentacled Octoling barked something that was probably a code word and the three remaining Octolings took a triangular formation, two in front, one in back.

The two Octolings in front pointed their guns at Anthias. Kepa, about to move, stopped, scowling.

The Octolings moved further and further down the hallway to an open window, and one by one, they jumped out.

Anthias clenched his hands into fists. “You just  _ let them go _ ? We could have at least grabbed the first one you stopped!”

“We’ve got one here for questioning. She’ll be good enough for now.”

“We should send a message out about the Octolings.”

Without acknowledging Anthias’ statement, she turned to heft the Octoling over her shoulder. “The fight’s over now, kid. You should really go home.”

Anthias bristled. “I warned the army of this and nobody listened. I knew it would happen. I should be a part of the interrogations!”

“Let me ask you something, kid. Why do you want to fight the Octarians so damn much?”

“It’s in my family’s history. We fought against the Octarians in the Great War.”

“Is that all?”

“Octarains are selfish! They want inkling land. Why should we let them take it?”

Kepa sighed, an odd look on her face. “I’ll tell you what. You read that journal,” she pointed to the journal Anthias had dropped on the floor by Kepa’s office when the Octolings had shown up, “and I’ll let you in on the investigation. But you have to do what I say.”

“Deal.”

Kepa began to make her way down the hall. Anthias followed. Stopping at the door to her office, Kepa knelt down, gingerly lifting the journal off the floor as though it were a priceless artifact, and pressed it into his hands.

“You damage it and you’re off the case,” was all she said.

They kept walking.

* * *

 

There was an odd feeling of numbness as May watched the city below. Of emptiness. Lacey had left her. She had known it was coming. Lacey was loyal to her people first. Then to May.

She knew it was coming. But it still hurt. May still hurt. 

Briefly, she contemplated contacting Aaron, but he had never known about Lacey, and she certainly couldn't tell him now. Couldn't tell anyone, now.

She hadn’t felt this empty since she had first seen Don again.

Legs hanging limply over the side of the building, May dipped her head to watch garbage blow across the city street below. She remembered standing down there with Lacey, hand in hand, and how nervous she had felt about being out and about. It had almost been like a date, except Lacey didn't feel that way and never would.

Her chest felt heavy. Hunched over, May lifted her knees to curl into a little ball.

This would pass, she told herself. She would get over Lacey, and go spend some time with Aaron, Matt, and Gill. They wouldn't leave her.

_ But what if they go, too?  _ A treacherous voice from within May asked.

What if, indeed. May bit her lip. She knew they were her friends, they had promised themselves that they wouldn't go. But there was always a possibility. Why would they bother to care about her? She’d be a traitor to them, if they knew about Lacey. They would leave her then. They didn't know about Lacey, but they could find out.

Lost in her thoughts, she barely even noticed the feeling of cool metal pressing against her back. Turning, May looked directly into the dead eyed mask of an Octoling.

Feeling too empty to even care, May barely reacted.

Wait- an Octoling? May searched frantically over the rooftop for Lacey. If there was an Octoling here, Lacey had surely met up with her.

Her eyes zeroed in on a form laid gingerly on the rooftop by a black-tentacled Octoling.

_ Lacey _ .

Ignoring the shouts of the Octoling, May dodged under her gun to kneel by Lacey’s form.

“Lacey?” May cried, but their was no answer.

There was blood on Lacey’s mouth, her eyes covered by that damn mask. May tore it off in a heartbeat, tossing it somewhere behind her.

“Hey- hey!” Said the black tentacled Octoling.

Ignoring her, May gently ran her fingers over Lacey’s face, wiping away the blood by her mouth.

“You- who are you?”

May looked up, fixing the Octoling with a stare before simply responding, “May.”

May couldn't check Lacey for injuries with her armor still on. She removed it, tossing it to the side to reveal a small, black undershirt.

There was something loose under the skin of her back.

“What- what happened to her?” May asked.

Mouth in a straight line, the Octoling said, “an Inkling did something to her. I don’t know what.”

“What- what was Lacey doing?”

It made sense, that Lacey would be with these Octolings. With her own people, ready to go home. But where had an Inkling attacked her, and why?

“The real question,” a tall, freckled, octoling said, “is what was Lacey doing with you?”

“I-”

“You’re Agent 3, aren’t you? The one who carried Lacey off? Why would she stay with you, instead of going home immediately? She should have killed you.”

“Iola, enough,” snapped the octoling who had threatened May earlier, “Lacey may be dying and she needs medical attention. This Inkling seems to care about her and we need all the help we can get.”

“We just lost Chalcedony to the inklings. I don’t want to take my chances with this place anymore.”

Lacey suddenly coughed. Body spasming, blood shot from her mouth as her body shook with odd tremors. Quickly, however, her body settled. Slowly, Lacey’s arms began to lift, one faster than the other. Trembling fingers found May’s hands and grasped them tightly.

”M- May,” Lacey finally said, after a moment of silence where all four figures on the rooftop stared at them, “sorry...”

Her eyes shut. Her head fell limp to the ground.

There was a pause.

“I have some medical supplies in my apartment.” May found herself saying. “We should get Lacey patched up.”

Carefully pushing her forearms under Lacey’s body, May hefted her into her arms and began maneuvering herself to the stairwell. She had to get Lacey to her bed. Then treat her.

May could think about just what Lacey had been doing later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah uh sorry not sorry.


	29. In Which May Hopes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this wasn't too long of a wait! It would have been shorter, but I actually went on vacation to New York for about a week (which was fun, but not very productive to writing). As always, ReedRGale was incredibly helpful in writing this chapter and it would not be very good without him.  
> Thank you for staying with me and this fanfiction for so long.

May stared down at Lacey’s prone form, lain silently on her bed, and bit her lip as not to cry. She had come in from the roof and placed her here, ready to help Lacey however she could. It was only now that she was truly beginning to realize how completely useless she was.

May shut her bedroom door behind her with a quiet but audible click so as not to startle the Octolings worriedly pacing in her living room. She hadn’t managed to gain their trust in the thirty minutes they had been inside her home, and she couldn’t look after Lacey if she had to respawn below in the building’s lobby.

“I-” May started.

Three identical grey masks turned to stare at her. May froze.

“Lacey is in a- a really bad condition. I don’t know how to fix this.”

Silence.

“I- I’m sorry.”

The tall one- Iola- crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

“Explain,” she said, “what can’t you fix?”

“It- it feels like something’s loose in her back. I don’t know what. I don’t know how, or why. I don’t know much about Octoling biology.”

“I’ve never seen anything like this either,” admitted Yucca. “One move from that Inkling, and Lacey just- collapsed.”

“She seems to be okay for now,” May said, “Or well, she’s breathing evenly. Do you... want to see her?” It seemed to May that they cared for Lacey, 

Yucca nodded. May opened the door and stepped to the side, allowing the Octolings entrance. Leaning heavily against the doorframe, she allowed a sigh to leave her.

It was bad. Really bad. Lacey’s back felt like a rubber band that had snapped and left two useless pieces behind.

Lacey was dying and it was all May’s fault. There was nothing she could do.

May had never felt so helpless.

The Octolings spoke with low voices, but May could still hear them.

“We can’t let her die,” Yucca was saying, “we’ll figure this out. We’ll save Lacey, and we’ll rescue Chalcedony, and we’ll all go home.”

“If Chalcedony were here,” Iola muttered, “she would have fixed this already. She’s our damn medic.”

“Chalcedony...” Verbena sounded just about ready to cry. “She’s trapped there- like this. What if they hurt her more? Just look at what one Inkling did to her. They’re monsters. All of them.”

May closed her eyes. This was her fault. Lacey had wanted to leave- she had been talking to Octolings, working with them, ready to go home. And she hadn’t even trusted May enough to tell her. 

If only- if only- if only  _ what?  _ If only May hadn’t decided to save her? If only May hadn’t gotten so attached? If only May had never become Agent 3? If only May had let Lacey kill her?

If only May hadn’t fallen in love?

No.

_ No. _

None of that mattered now! All that mattered was that Lacey was going to live. May refused to let her go. No way! She would save Lacey by any means necessary, and Lacey would go home, and May would be happy because Lacey was alive and happy.

Now, who could help?

She could not go to the hospital. A doctor would refuse to treat Lacey, or at least contact the military about the Octoling presence. None of May’s friends knew anything about medicine. Gill was a training biologist, but had never studied Octarian biology. Matt would be able to keep a cool head, but he knew about as much as May did. Aaron hated Octolings, so he was out.  She tried to think back. She had been injured before, hadn’t she? She had nearly died in a kettle. Who had helped stitch her up back then?

_ Captain Cuttlefish had.  _ He had fought in the war. Surely, he would know about anti-Octoling techniques. Even if he didn’t want to treat an Octoling, May would beg him on her knees until he did.

But what if whatever was wrong with Lacey was exclusive to Octolings?

It was as if she had been hit point blank by an inkzooka. May knew  _ exactly  _ who could help. If Aaron ever found out about this, he would hate her for certain, but May knew she had to do this. For Lacey.

If anyone knew how to heal an Octoling, it would be DJ Octavio himself. This was either going to go really well or horribly

But if not him... May had no idea who else to turn to.

“I... I think I know someone who can help,” May said loudly, interrupting the Octoling’s conversation, “but I need to leave in order to get him.”

Yucca frowned, still staring at Lacey’s motionless form, but nodded.

“Verbena- go with her. So she doesn’t contact the enemy. Iola and I will stand guard here.”

“Yes sir.”

May grabbed her backpack. “If you transform you can hide in here, easy.”

Verbena stiffened. “I can sneak through Inkopolis in the middle of the night just fine, thank you.”

And they were off.

* * *

 

_ Pain... _

_ Nothing but pain. To move even a fraction of an inch hurt. _

_ She wanted to move. She had to move. She needed to move- _

_ Still only pain. _

_ Her teammates were in danger. She had to help them (she couldn’t leave them). _

_ May would be hurt without her. Lacey had to see here again. And again. And again and again and again. _

_ She just had to move first. Just her finger. Then her arm. She could do it. _

* * *

 

When they reached the grate, May could feel Verbena giving her a suspicious look under the mask.

May went through first. She waited at the other end until Verbena surfaced.

“We’re here. He’s this way. The person who can help.”

“And who is this person?”

May pointed.

Verbena stared.

“N-no way...”

There was no time to lose. May ignored her and went about waking up Captain Cuttlefish from where he lay sleeping on the bench. She would probably need him there, and it was time he knew anyway, that she had to stop being Agent 3- There was no way she could work against the Octarians when Lacey would be there with them.

He woke sharply, saw May, and immediately smiled.

“Ah- Agent 3! What brings you round here so late at night-”

He had clearly noticed Verbena, who had begun to tap absently on DJ Octavio’s globe with a stunned expression.

“Ah! Don’t do that!” Cuttlefish exclaimed, running over to stop Verbana, “he’ll get a headache if you do that and spend the whole time complaining!”

May had been expecting him to be frightened. Angry. Apprehensive. Actively working against May. But he wasn’t. Did he really trust her that much?

As May made her way over to the globe, DJ Octavio began to stir. Verbena’s tapping had clearly woken him. He peeled open one eye, then the other. Then stared.

May took a deep breath, eyes closed, waiting for him to shake the grogginess. She thought of Lacey, dying, in the time it took for him to wake. In front of her stood the ultimate enemy, the villain, the one she had worked against and defeated. He had kidnapped Captain Cuttlefish, stolen the zapfish, and had planned to attack her people. She had defeated him. He likely hated her. Would he look past his own anger to help his own kind? Would he listen to May at all? If she didn’t have him, then what? There was nowhere else for May to turn to. She had to do this. She would have to make DJ Octavio listen.

“I need your help,” May began. “I don’t know anyone else I can go to. My... friend. You met her before- the Octoling soldier. She needs- she’s- she’s hurt. I don’t know what happened. Something is wrong in her back.”

Eyes narrowing, DJ Octavio 

“She’s not responding to anything I do- she’s not moving- it’s like she’s _dead,_ except she’s still _breathing_ , but I don’t know how to fix this! I don’t know how to help her! I know you don’t care for Inklings! But this isn’t about me or the inklings or any of that! Please save my friend! I _need_ her! I can’t lose her! Help her! _Help her!_ I’ll do anything! I- I’ll cut off my own tentacles! I’ll give myself to the Octarians! _Anything!_ Please!” May cried. “Please!” Then, softer. “Please. If she dies, I’ll-”

“Cuttlefish,” DJ Octavio said, voice calm, “let me out.”

Despite the fact that they had been on opposing sides of the war for years, Cuttlefish did as asked. Leaning on his cane, he bent down to press a button on the edge of the globe. There was a click. The sound of whirring gears echoed in May’s head. She barely heard it.

Was DJ Octavio really going to help her?

“Let’s just get you up, kiddo,” Cuttlefish said, resting a bony hand on May’s shoulder, “so we can help your friend.”

“Don’t you... hate me for this? We fight Octarians. And now I’m close with one.”

The gnarled hand wrapped gently around May’s arm. She allowed Cuttlefish to pull her up, still surprisingly strong for such an old man.

“Is this Octarian trying to hurt the Inklings? Has she tried to hurt you?”

May thought back to the times Lacey had attempted to kill her. Those fights had come from a fear that May would be the one doing the killing- that May was a monster. Never out of malice had Lacey attacked her, so May shook her head.

“Then I’m fine with her.”

“But- the war...”

“The war’s over. Been over for a while now. Octavio isn’t gonna attack the Inklings anymore either, since we beat him. I may be a paranoid old coot,” Cuttlefish laughed, “but I’m not a bitter one!”

“I-”

May was interrupted by the final click of the globe. In the time she had spoken to Cuttlefish, it had drained of its liquid. DJ Octavio tapped a tentacle against the glass and it sprung open as though on hinges. He stepped out, stretching his scarred tentacles, and stood proudly in the dirt. Then he began to change.

His form lost its solidity, as though it would melt into a puddle of ink. Except it didn't melt. Up and up and up it grew. In only moments, a tall but hunched old man stood where the DJ Octavio May knew had been. Long tentacles curled out from under his ornate hat. Despite the grumpy frown on his wrinkled face, he carried an air of command about him.

“Sir!” Verbena said, and saluted hastily, as though she had forgotten her role in society until just this moment. May couldn’t blame her. It had been a hectic night.

“There is no point for that now,” said Octavio in a gruff voice. It jarred May to hear it unmuffled .

“Let’s help May’s friend,” Cuttlefish said, “do we need anything?”

“A scalpel. Some wrappings.” He went quiet for a moment, thoughtful, closing his vibrant eyes. “You should bring your whole first aid kit.”

Cuttlefish disappeared into the shack and came out with a first aid kit, far fuller than May’s, and probably a thousand times more useful.

Was this really happening? DJ Octavio was just going to help May? After everything she had done to his cause? 

“Alright then,” Cuttlefish tapped his cane on the ground, making his way to the grate faster than May had ever seen him move before, “let's go.”

It was really happening. DJ Octavio was going to save Lacey.

There was a chance that Lacey would be okay.

With long strides, Octavio quickly caught up to Captain Cuttlefish. It took several steps for the captain to match him, and yet somehow they managed to walk at the same pace.

_ Had they been close before the war?  _ May wondered, following behind them as the group made the short walk to the grate.

The journey to Lacey was quiet. The group stuck to the shadows and alleyways to avoid detection. Somehow, Octavio managed to move silently while in full armor.

It was about halfway through the route when Verbena spoke up.

“So,” she said, in an almost wistful tone, “you really love her, don’t you?”

May knew exactly who Verbena was talking about.

She thought of shared food and quiet moments, of the feeling of gentle yet calloused hands on her own, of shimmering green eyes and the brightest smile.

“Yeah,” May agreed, “I guess I do.”

They arrived home.

May stood in front of her door, breathing in deeply. Lacey was going to be okay. DJ Octavio was going to fix her.

May would deal with the repercussions of releasing him later.

She opened the door.

Three pairs of glowing, masked eyes, stared at her. Stepping to the side, May allowed her guests in. She could almost see the gears in the heads of the Octolings turning as they saw their general.

“D-DJ Octavio!?”

“You were- with the inklings?”

The three seemed caught between saluting and fainting, attempting not to panic as their leader stepped casually into May’s dinky apartment.

“I’m not here to lead you,” he said tersely, and turned to May. “Where is she?”

“This way.”

Leading Octavio to the bedroom, May opened the door. Lacey could be seen easily under the covers. She rested on her stomach, cheek against the pillow. Her face was scrunched up in pain, but she remained motionless, like a stone statue.

Cuttlefish placed the first aid kit on the bed, clicking it open. From it DJ Octavio pulled a small but thin knife- the scalpel, disinfectant, bandages, rubber gloves, and a needle and thread.

“Is this sterile?” He asked Captain Cuttlefish.

“What do you think? I just leave dirty scalpels lying around?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Shut up and fix the damn Octoling.”

“You should go,” DJ Octavio addressed May, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. One first, and then the other, pulled tight in his hand.

“I- I won’t leave her.”

Octavio let go of the glove so it snapped against his arm. He glanced at Cuttlefish, who shrugged.

“Get over here then.” said Octavio. “But don’t get in my way.”

With no ceremony at all, he pulled up Lacey’s black shirt, placed the scalpel against the pinkish skin of Lacey’s back and cut right into it. Without flinching, Octavio quickly cleaned it, and gently pushed his fingers into Lacey’s back. Attempting to see what he was doing was near impossible without getting in his way, and so May forced herself to watch his hands as they deftly and methodically stitched Lacey back together. The movements were steady, mesmerizing.

“I have finished.”

May jumped, startled. It was over?

“Is she okay?”

“She will recover in time. Let her rest.” 

“Speaking of rest,” Cuttlefish cut in, “when was the last time you had any?”

“A few hours ago...”

“Well it’s been a late night. How about you go back to sleep and ‘Tavio and I go explain things to the Octolings.”

“I have to stay with Lacey.”

“You can do that and rest at the same time, can’t you?”

May glanced towards Lacey’s unconscious form. Rather than sleep she wanted to stay with Lacey. The plan seemed foolish; Octavio would be with the other Octolings. Left unchecked, there was the possibility of danger.

May wasn't surprised to find she didn’t care. All that mattered at this moment was Lacey’s recovery. May would stay with her. For as long as it took, May would stay by her side.

The bedroom door clicked closed behind her, but she didn't notice the sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you look up at the tags in this fic, you will see that there is no Major Character Death warning. I'm not that evil and I would not do that to you (also because I hate to see my characters suffer like that). So don't worry! May and Lacey may go through mortal peril but nobody is going to die!  
> I should warn you, when I say mortal peril, I mean we still aren't at the chapter that the Graphic Depictions of Violence tag is slapped onto this fanfiction for.  
> Don't worry guys, there is going to be a happy ending. I refuse to let it end on a sad note.


	30. In Which There Is A Resolution, But Not The Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to this fanfiction (technically it's the next day for me because I'm posting late but it's early enough that it still counts!) About a year ago on the 30th of August, today (sort of) I posted the first chapter of this fanfiction after Amazingspaceship encouraged me to do so. I can't believe a whole year has passed. I'm feeling pretty sentimental about it. This thing is like my child.  
> And today's chapter, while a bit short, is a very special one, too. Of course, it has been lovingly and painstakingly edited by ReedRGale who continues to be amazing. So without much further ado, I give you chapter 30!

Awareness came to Lacey slowly. It began with the sound of May’s air conditioning unit, buzzing timidly, tickling the very edge of her consciousness. A familiar sound, one she had woken up to many times before, and so nothing seemed wrong at first. 

Slowly opening her eyes, she blinked away some grogginess and saw May, asleep in front of her. She was close enough to kiss, but Lacey didn’t wish to disturb her. It wasn’t often that May slept in the bed, after all.

Lacey didn’t think May would want to kiss, anyway.

_ I could make her breakfast,  _ Lacey thought,  _ because she always makes it for me, _ and attempted to lift herself from bed. She was surprised to discover that moving at all seemed impossible, and stayed useless on the mattress.

Something was wrong with her.

As she stretched and contracted her fingers, attempting to regain control of herself, she tried to remember why she was in this state. It came back slowly but surely, in little bits. She had infiltrated the Inkling’s military base. She had fought a tall Inking and lost. Something strange had been done to her. Pain. And then nothing. Nothing at all. Had her squad carried her back?

Now she was here. Which meant...

Her eyes focused again on May’s sleeping face. Had she found her, alone on the roof? Had Lacey’s squad been there? What had occurred in the confrontation, when Lacey had not been there to stop it? She had to know.

Again, she attempted to push herself up on vaguely responsive arms, managing only to shake the bed. A groan sounded from her left as Lacey wallowed in annoyance at herself as May sat up, rubbing drowsiness from her eyes.

May turned to Lacey. She blinked, and then her face seemed to soften.

“Lacey,” she breathed, and suddenly Lacey was no longer on the bed but gathered up in May’s arms. She could feel May’s hands tightening around her as she buried her face into crook of Lacey’s neck.

Lacey froze, uncertain of how to respond, before she tried to return the hug. Her right arm did as was told easily enough, and settled on the back of May’s head, rubbing gentle circles. Her left arm, far slower, finally found May’s back and stayed there. No matter how hard Lacey tried, she could barely get her fingers to grasp May’s shirt.

“I thought I was going to lose you.” May whispered, her breath warm against Lacey’s skin.

“I’m sorry,” Lacey said, leaning into May, “I never meant to worry you.”

“Then why did you? What were you thinking? Why didn’t you at least- at least tell me where you were going?”

Lacey was silent.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the other Octolings? I thought- I know you’ll leave me eventually but- if you wanted to go you could have told me. I was never trying to keep you here.”

“Leave you?”

“Inkopolis isn’t your home,” May said, with a taste of bitterness, “your home's where it feels like flying, remember? With the Octarians. With your family.”

The  _ without me _ went unsaid, but Lacey heard it regardless. She thought, for a moment, of everything May had said. Of everything May had done. She had rescued Lacey, cared for her, healed her, made her feel whole. Even when Lacey had attempted to kill her, May had only ever helped.

May cared for her  _ so much,  _ Lacey realized. So much more than Lacey had ever thought.

“May,” Lacey said, moving her left hand from May’s back to her cheek, “May, look at me.” She couldn’t feel the softness of May’s skin at all. She ignored that. There was something far more important she needed to do.

May’s sunrise eyes were glistening with unshed tears. With her right hand, Lacey grasped May’s shaking fingers and held them close.

“May...”

“Lacey?”

“I’m never going to leave you, May,” Lacey said. There was so much that May needed to know. “I’m never going to leave you because you  _ are  _ my home. There is nowhere I would rather be than with you.”

“What about your home? Your people?”

“I love them very much,” Lacey said, then took a breath, “but I love you more.”

“You- what?”

“I love you, May. With all of my heart.”

May stared, dumfounded, and had nothing to say. That was okay. Lacey hadn’t been expecting a dramatic declaration of love. May cared for Lacey, even if it wasn’t the same way Lacey cared for May. 

“Lacey...” May stared at their joined hands, frowning to herself. One by one she entwined her fingers with Lacey’s. Glancing upward, she caught Lacey’s gaze. Lacey froze, uncertain. What if telling May hadn’t been the right idea? Had she made a mistake? Lacey felt her heart gain weight and drop, pulling the rest of her down with it, like a black hole of shame. She had completely messed up, hadn’t she? May was going to be so uncomfortable now. How could she face her ever again? It was too much, too soon.

She had been so hasty. Lacey looked away, waiting for May to let her down softly, gently. Waiting for May to tell her no. The guilt of letting Lacey down would eat at May, and it would be Lacey’s fault.

“Lacey,” May breathed softly.

Lacey felt her insides shrivel up. Here it came at last.

May tilted her head, smiling softly.

It was quite the lovely smile, Lacey decided.

“Lacey... I love you too.”

Lacey blinked. With those few words, it seemed as though May had reached within Lacey to her heart and washed the darkness gently away. Lacey smiled back. “May... may I kiss you?”

May blinked, then nodded. Closing her eyes, she leaned forward. Lacey followed, nearly overtaken by the feeling of lightness that had appeared suddenly in her body and coursed through it, new, exhilarating, and yet familiar. Chapped lips met her own. It was a soft, simple kiss, yet to Lacey it was better than watching a splatfest. It was better than sleeping in May’s soft blankets for the first time. It felt like a breeze of fresh air tickling her tentacles, or the warmth of a mug of cocoa, or the smell of a bouquet of flowers.

It felt like flying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno about you guys but after posting this I think I need a moment to breath. My children finally got their shit together. It only took 30 chapters.  
> But the story isn't done yet, guys. There's about 15-20 left to go. The end is slowly dawning on the horizon.  
> Thank you for sticking with me for so long with this fanfiction, guys. You all are so wonderful.  
> With that, I'm going to go to sleep now. It's one in the morning where I am and sleep is a Thing That I Need To Function. Goodnight!


	31. In Which Several New Plotlines Are Established

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *takes some confetti and slam dunks it*  
> They kissed!!!! Last chapter! I did it!  
> Now there's only about 20 more chapters to go!  
> Thank you for sticking with me guys as I throw some more confetti to celebrate the fact that I actually updated (yay) and that the next chapter is already into the editing phase (double yay). Sorry it's taken me so long. School is really taking up my schedule.  
> As usual ReedRGale kept this chapter from being a complete disaster, and as usual thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Don awoke to the smell of tea tickling his nose. A steaming china cup on Aaron’s coffee table drew Don’s attention. He sat up and held the mug in both hands, but did not drink it. For a moment it felt as though this were the only warmth in the world.

“Good morning!”

“Morning,” Don said, barely able to hear his own voice.

“I made breakfast,” said Aaron, “I hope you like eggs.”

“They’re okay.”

“Let’s go to my kitchen. It’s all in there.”

Aaron placed a tentative hand on Don’s. As he put the tea down and allowed himself to be lead through the apartment, its smell was replaced with that of cooked eggs and crabby-cakes.

Don’s own apartment would have smelled like toaster waffles in the morning. Sandy would have cooked them, and poured four glasses of orange juice-

Three now, he supposed.

Don was surprised to find that at some point he had sat down. There was a fork and a plate in front of him, and the tea as well, which Aaron had apparently gone back for. Across from him, Aaron was draining a glass of milk.

“It makes bones strong!” he announced.

Don gave him a questioning look. “We don’t have bones.”

Aaron just smiled, which annoyed Don, for some reason.

“You should drink some milk too,” Aaron said after some time, “it’ll make you stronger.”

Instead of responding, Don began to play with his fork.

“Are you going to eat anything?”

“No.”

Aaron frowned.

“You have to eat  _ something _ .”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well,” said Aaron cheerfully, “I am going to get seconds.”

Don watched him stand, pushing in his chair without a sound, to walk over to the kitchen area. On the island in the center was a large plate of crabby cakes. Aaron took three and sat back at the table. Don looked back at his own plate. The food was slowly cooling.

“Are you gonna take a bite?”

Aaron was looking at him expectantly. Don stared at him, and then, unable to meet his gaze, back at the plate. He tore a piece of crabby-cake in his fingers and shoved it in his mouth. It melted on his tongue, leaving the tang of crab and salt behind.

“Do you like it?”

Instead of answering, Don tore off another piece and began to chew it as slow as he could, just to avoid the conversation. He stared at the plate, unable to meet Aaron’s eyes. This guy was ridiculous- looking at him like that- like he actually cared if Don ate a single bite. Don was smart enough to know he didn’t- if Don’s only three friends didn’t care enough that they would just  _ leave  _ him on the street, there was no way this asshole cared either, and sooner or later Aaron would kick him out.

Don stood up. “I’m going back to the couch.”

He didn’t plan on eating anyway. Don shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt and left the room. Aaron didn’t protest, but when Don chanced a look back, he saw Aaron giving him that look again.

* * *

 

Anthias was enraptured by the journal. Although written in the Octarian dialect, he was able to understand most of it. He was only on the first entry, which stretched three pages in spidery handwriting.

_ Kepa has given me a notebook, _ it had begun,  _ so that I will have something ‘I can actually trust’ here among the enemy. She handed it to me as though it was my salvation, and then called me silly. I do not know if it was to be an insult. _

_ I will die if I return to Octo-Valley. There I am branded a traitor and even if I do not return to the military, they will hunt me down in the city, or I will be killed in a skirmish, or in whatever civil war we happen to have next. Perhaps the DJ will win again. Perhaps he will lose for once. Either way, I will end up gone. But I loath to be trapped here, surrounded by those who will kill me or make me talk and then I really will be a traitor. _

_ Kepa does not understand this. Despite having a father who fought in the Great War, she is soft. She does not understand how to fight. She wears robes and slippers around her apartment. I have never owned a dress before. Robes are not for warmongers. They are for the servants and assistants of Great Generals. Kepa is neither of those. _

_ I told her she understood nothing of me, and she said to tell it to the diary. Clearly I have irritated her. I must refrain from that. If I upset her, then she may leave me to the mercy of the Inklings. _

_ -Tosix _

“Go home, kid. It’s getting late.”

Pulled from the journal, Anthias met the scarred eyes of Captain Kepa. She leaned against the wall of her office, staring at him from behind her glasses. Anthias suddenly remembered the words of the journal, and felt his insides seize at the sight of the traitor who stood in front of him.

“You harbored an Octoling?” Was all he could say.

Kepa sighed.

“That was a long time ago, kid.”

“You- you harbored an Octoling! The enemy!”

“I was a dumb kid. Your age, actually.”

“I would  _ not  _ harbor an Octoling. I would turn it in.”

“To what? The government? It’s not actually illegal to be an Octoling and walk around inside Inkopolis, you know. The only reason we captured this one is because they broke into our military base.”

“They’re always plotting something awful. You shouldn’t have trusted one.”

Captain Kepa smiled wryly, as though Anthias’ words had been a joke. “Maybe I shouldn’t have,” she admitted, “but it doesn’t matter anyway.”

A spark of curiosity made itself known in the heat of Anthias’ animosity. 

“Why not?”

“She’s dead.”

In that moment, Anthias saw behind her glasses, to the scarred eye. There were bags beneath that eye, beneath both of those eyes. As she spoke, Captain Kepa seemed to deflate, annoyance leaving her body.

“What?”

“Her government executed her.”

There was silence, after that. Anthias found himself in a strange position now- sitting in the office of a traitor, reading the journal of a traitor. This was a story he did not know and would probably never know unless he asked. Here in front of him was the source of information he had been looking for in Kepa’s office, only a few nights ago.

“Did she deserve it?” 

“Maybe. I never learned all of her crimes. She wrote about them in her journal, but I never read that. It’s too personal for me.”

“Then why am I reading it?”

“All you care about is getting rid of the Octarians, kid. You never even tried understanding them- nobody here does. They either laugh at the prospect of ever interacting, or they’re like you. You don’t even see them as people.”

“Does it matter?”

Silence. Kepa stared reverently at the journal in Anthias’ hands. Then she sighed, and shook her head.

“Do me a favor, kid.”

“What do you want?”

“Go home. Go to bed. Tomorrow morning, when you wake up, go outside and make some real connections with someone. Try to understand them. Maybe then you’ll realize what I mean.”

“I’m not going to-”

“Make some friends, kid. You’re lonelier than you think.”

* * *

 

Mallory had been by her side for so long now, Commander Kelp felt strange without him there, cowering in fear behind her. He would be back soon with a message, of course. He always was, and in this case he had been summoned specifically to pick one up for her.

So now, Commander Kelp was left alone with herself. There were no generals to squabble with, no assistants to frighten, no troops to observe or commanding to do. No DJ to report back to. She was stuck in her office, for once frustratingly useless.

She paced about the blank room, hands clasped behind her back.

Even the Generals were losing patience. Not yet, but soon, they would realize Kelp was slowly but surely losing her leverage. When that happened...

She could not let that happen. She would kill them all with her own two hands just to prevent it. She had before.

Finally, the knock came. Instead of her usual ‘open’ Kelp marched to the door and opened it herself, only taking a small moment to relish in the shock on Mallory’s face before she snatched the slip of paper in her hands and read it.

_ Have infiltrated Inkopolis Military Building with help of Trooper 8975 AKA Lacey. Nothing of interest found. 8975 was incapacitated by Inkling. Trooper 8978 incapacitated and captured. Upon arrival to 8975’s hideout, Agent 3 met with us on rooftop, confirming 8975’s treachery. 8975 was unconscious due to strange attack by Inkling. Outside source was brought in for surgery. Outside source turned out to be DJ Octavio. DJ Octavio refuses to return to his duties, and 8975 is slowly recovering, but has lost movement in left arm and can barely move at all. _

_ -Squad 238 _

Commander Kelp read over the message several times, gripping it so tightly the paper began to tear in her hands. For once, she had no clue what to focus on first. They had found DJ Octavio.  _ They had found him.  _ But he wasn’t coming back, not willingly. 

Somehow, an Inkling had known the secrets even most Octolings didn’t about their biology- Commander Kelp had nearly died discovering those secrets. She frowned, but pushed those thoughts aside. When it was all over, when Commander Kelp lay dying,  _ then  _ she could dwell on the past.

The present was more important. Now, she had everything she needed. The Generals would bow down to her. DJ Octavio  _ would  _ come back, even if she had to drag him by his tentacles herself. She needed him here, guiding the Octarian Army, guiding the Octolings.

If there was one thing Commander Kelp knew, it was that she would do  _ anything  _ to get her way, no matter the cost, even if it meant infiltrating Inkopolis herself. First, however, it was more rational to use her resources. 

“Mallory, send a message to Squad 238. Observe the interactions between Soldier 8975 and Agent 3. Learn why DJ Octavio refuses to return. Send all information back to me.”

She needed time- time to devise a plan to bring back DJ Octavio and capture Agent 3- and the information to do it. Soon, everything would go her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now begins the character arc I've been trying to do for ages- Commander Kelp's. And also Don, which I'm slightly less excited about but still excited. And Anthias who literally has no friends. Poor guy. Actually, now that May and Lacey have gotten together, I'll be focusing on some other characters for a bit. Naturally, May and Lacey are still the main characters, but in order to push the plot where I need it to go other people have to be explored too.


	32. In Which Commander Kelp Starts A Private War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Long time no see. I'm excited to share this chapter with you. It's starting us off on the final arc (or two arcs) of the story, and then it will be over. It feels really amazing to have made it this far. This story is the longest thing I have ever written ever in my entire life, and possibly the best too. Writing it has been so wonderful and you all have made it wonderful. Thank you for staying with me for so long!   
> As usual, ReedRGale is my amazing beta reader and quite possibly the only reason this story is at all coherent.  
> I hope you enjoy reading the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Commander Kelp stood straight-backed in front of the council, face carefully blank. Her feet were spread wide, her arms crossed behind her. Even in such a passive position, she looked to Mallory like a predator stalking its prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

At the opposite end of the long table from the Commander stood General Pikaia, who was in the unlucky situation of being on Commander Kelp’s shit list.

“Sit down, General,” Kelp ordered after a moment of tense silence, “this is your table, is it not?”

“I won’t sit,” Pikaia replied tersely.

“Have you finally grown a spine?” Commander Kelp shot back.

“Perhaps I have,” glancing for only a moment at the shocked faces of the other Generals, she continued, “I refuse to be bullied by DJ Octavio’s pet attack shark any longer.”

General Pikaia was dead- she was so  _ dead _ . Commander Kelp was going to murder her and make Mallory hang up the body somewhere to be made an example of.

The Commander’s lips curled upward. Her shoulders trembled. Had she been angered already? Mallory winced, bracing himself for the inevitable hurt that surely would come, and looked away. Then he heard it. The oddest little sound, small yet it grew louder and louder until Mallory looked up again at its source.

Laughing. Commander Kelp was laughing. Boisterous, brash, real laughter, ringing out in the stunned silence of the Council Room. It seemed mocking, and yet Mallory could tell that Kelp wasn’t.

Finally, the Commander finished. Still grinning, she leaned forward, and slammed her hands on the table.

“I guess you have grown one, General,” she drawled, “but have you grown a head to go with it? Let’s hear what you have to say.”

The tenseness of the silence that followed left Mallory shivering. He fought to keep his hands from shaking. One move, to break this tension, and surely, Commander Kelp would torture him again. He had been waiting for it. Waiting to slip up, for her to find some reason to hurt him, just as she had the first time they had met.

“Your performance as stand-in DJ has been... abysmal.” General Pikaia began.

_ She’s really doing this,  _ thought Mallory, biting his lip. He glanced back toward the Commander.

“Go on,” urged Commander Kelp, still grinning, as though the General’s accusations had not affected her, “let’s see you prove that.”

Somehow unflinching under the full intensity of the Commander’s gaze, General Pikaia continued. “Even after months of searching, he has yet to be found. The morale of the Octoling Corp is falling. You have wasted time and resources better spent elsewhere on a wild goose-chase.

Mallory watched in horror as the smug grin faded. Commander Kelp’s mouth became a thin line, and then deepened into a scowl.

“And I suppose your own operation has gone better? As I recall, the zapfish you steal continue to be stolen back constantly. For almost the entire duration under DJ Octavio, it was only  _ one agent _ interfering with your work. One inkling managed to get the better of you. Perhaps, if you had succeeded in the removal of the agent, your words would mean _ something _ . But you didn’t so they don’t. I find this terribly hypocritical,  _ General _ .”

“I-” General Pikaia stuttered, but found no words. Commander Kelp had shut her down, easily.

“Next time, General, call a meeting for an issue that’s actually important.” Kelp’s smirk returned in full force.

“I know you, Commander ‘Kelp’,” Pikaia breathed, determined to get in the last word, “I may not have been around during the war, but I know enough to see what happened to you. I know all about your dependency, your life, how you  _ really  _ got to be the DJ’s hands.”

Silence reared its ugly head. Commander Kelp curled back her lips, revealing sharp fangs.

“General,” she said. Her words echoed around the silent chamber, as though she and Pikaia were the only ones there, and the rest were just spectators.

“General,” she repeated, “you have  _ nothing  _ on me.”

“I have everything on you. The things you’ve done, the information you stole-  _ everything.” _

“You can’t touch me.”

“I’ve been watching you for years, seeing you climb, and run. I was there at your trial. I know what you did.”

“You would really reveal you know this to  _ me?  _ You’ve only made yourself a target.”

General Pikaia grinned, and it was so like Kelp’s that Mallory flinched.

“We’ll see about that.”

Silence.

Commander Kelp stood, frowning.

“I came to this meeting to tell you the good news,” she said, “not for politics.”

“And what good news is that?”

“DJ Octavio has been found. You can all give up on taking his spot now.”

Her hands were clenched tight behind her back as she turned and marched from the room. Mallory was quick to follow. All he could do was focus on was the sound of Commander Kelp’s boots stomping the metal floor again and again and again. She went all the way past the privacy of her office, through hallways and up and down stairs. Mallory wasn’t even certain if she was even aware of his presence after a while.

Was following her a good idea? Anxiety struck Mallory cold. He began to turn away.

Then she stopped in front of a door, took a deep breath, and entered. Curious, Mallory crept up to the door. It was a storage room, old and spiderwebbed with disuse. Yet she had come here without a second thought, without stopping, storming out of a meeting without even revealing everything she had found.

Mallory cracked open the door to peek inside. He froze.

Before, when Commander Kelp had tortured him, it had been with her bare hands, cracking and shaping his body in painful ways until he broke. Here, he realized, were the tools she had never used. 

Large knives lay in neat rows on a table, some serrated, some blunt. In the center of the room was a table- empty, but with restraints. The surrounding floor was stained with blood. There was more, too. Strange liquids and metal with sharp ends. He was fairly certain the Commander needed none of this to effectively hurt someone (he was living proof), but he paled at the thought of being subjected to that. He needed to leave now.

Just as he went to close the door, Commander Kelp began to move.

She tore off her mask, and with a scream uncharacteristic of her usual restraint, tossed it across the room where it clattered uselessly. The sound echoed across the room, louder than thought. Mallory had never seen Commander Kelp without her mask before. Now he couldn’t help but stare as she spun around, grabbed the cart of knives, and knocked it over. She did not care for the placement of her hands, and the sharp of a blade carved blue into her hands. Blue blood, same as his. Blue blue blue, on the knives and the floor and her hands. Kelp clenched them into fists and began to kick the overturned cart over and over and over again. The blood spread to her fingers, started to dribble from her hands to the floor. Mallory could almost hear the droplets hit the floor and join the blood between the great metal crashes of her kicks.

“Damn it!” Kelp cried, “damn it! Damn it! Damn her!” Her voice cracked and twisted with viciousness that drained into her body language. Unfiltered rage seeped from her and into Mallory’s bones. Even from just outside the room, Mallory felt it. As Kelp turned, he could see it, uncontained on her face. Her unmasked, mutilated, face twisted and warped beyond repair. On one half hideous burns surrounded her vibrant green eye. Left, where another eye should have been, was a gaping hole of angry lacerations, surrounded by twisting, biting, burns. The scars continued artfully, like vines down her body, mixing in starburst patterns and disappearing beneath the metal of her armor. Demons lived in the grotesque shapes around her shoulders and neck. They caught Mallory’s eyes and held him there, trapped. How much had it hurt, he wondered, when she had gotten them? His grip tightened on the door.

Then she turned and met his eyes.

_ Oh shit. _

Run, run, it was time to run-

“What do you think?”

Her voice was calm, but shaky, a cracked composure hastily glued back together.

Mallory stopped and stared. His breath came short. Commander Kelp gazed at him with her one eye, glowing like fire in the dimly lit room. Mallory was trapped in the tunnel of her vision, unable to breathe.

“Well? What do you think?”

It was such a strange thing to say all of a sudden that Mallory was caught off guard. His mind, already reeling from seeing Commander Kelp -steady, clever, always with the upper hand, always with deadly accuracy in her goals- brought so low. It was like another person had sprouted from her skin. Someone new? No. This was someone old he was meeting, buried deep inside for moments of privacy. This was the Commander Kelp nobody was supposed to see.

Commander Kelp gestured with gloved hands to her mangled body.

“What do you think of me now?”

“I-” 

“Did you enjoy the show? Was it fun to see your torturer,” she snarled, “overcome? Did you find pleasure in it?”

“Did you find pleasure in torturing me?” 

Mallory was uncertain of where the question had come from. Why he had thought of it. Even so, Commander Kelp smiled wryly. “Looks like Pikaia isn't the only one grew a pair, then.” She narrowed her eyes. “You should be scared of me.”

“I am.”

“Good. Step inside.”

Mallory finally entered and shut the door behind him. Commander Kelp bent to the floor and pulled a knife from the floor. It was small and glistened in the low light of the storeroom. She came over to him slowly, cornering him against the door. He knew she would be there, pressing the knife to his throat in an instant if he tried to leave, so instead he pressed against the door and waited for the inevitable.

She came up to him, and suddenly flipped the knife so that the handle faced him.

“Time to learn how to use this, kid. We’re about to go to war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws confetti* Commander Kelp's character arc has begun! I am super excited to write this and share it with you all!


	33. In Which The Author Sets Something Up She Has Been Waiting For Since Aaron's Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally done! I'm sorry for the delay. High school is surprisingly busy, and I've been studying a lot. I'm taking the SAT this weekend. It feels like I've come a long way- I mean, wasn't I just posting about the PSAT in the author's notes here?  
> Anyway, due to time constraints, and to the fact that I need to get the story going again, this chapter is a little short. The next chapter should be, I hope, much, MUCH longer.  
> ReedRGale is of course the only reason this fanfiction makes any sense, and I thank him for literally everything always.  
> EDIT: I forgot to mention! I deleted my tumblr, but I have a twitter which is up and running. You can find me at @the_flan_knight, because I was really craving flan when I made it.

With barely any thought, Aaron fired a round of rapid inkshots from his splattershot and watched with grim satisfaction as the Octosniper in front of him splattered, a tiny soul rising up from his blue ink and disappearing off back to some Octarian spawn point somewhere. 

That was the issue with this agenting business. Nobody used the deadly weapons. The ones that killed instead of splatting. The ones that had been used during the war. Aaron’s grandfather had killed with those weapons.

And even after all that war over land, the Octarians still wouldn't keep to themselves. As long as they kept trying to invade and steal Zapfish, Aaron would be there to stop them. Of course, these days he seemed to be the only one still doing it. May was busy with  _ something  _ constantly. That was okay, he supposed; May deserved a break. The Octarians barely stole any zapfish anymore anyway- probably since he kept stealing them back.

Aaron grinned. He wasn't one for revenge, but it felt good to one up the species ultimately responsible for the death of his grandfather.

The zapfish was only a few paces away, guarded by a single Octoling. It grinned at him with needle sharp teeth behind a glinted mask. Almost an Inkling, and yet not. There was something  _ other  _ about it that sent revulsion scuttling up his back.

They stood there for a moment, eyeing each other up. Aaron moved a hand back to his belt and grabbed a splat bomb, but not fast enough. The Octoling threw a bomb right in his face. Aaron swam back to avoid it, popping from the ink to toss his own. The Octoling was ready. Aaron just barely managed to dodge its fire. Unfortunately for the Octoling, it had not managed to dodge the bomb, which in an explosion of blue ink splattered it.

Aaron took a moment to breath, staring at the battlefield, then picked his way out of the ink, snarling at the color.

Fucking freak of nature Octolings. Wouldn't they ever give up?

Aaron took the zapfish and left without another thought.

* * *

Some time between Lacey’s injury and then her confessing to May, the Octolings had received some orders, packed up and left the apartment.

“We will be back,” Captain Yucca had told May, “after we debrief in secret.”

May had passed her a crabby cake over the kitchen counter. “Makes sense. I’m sure you have a lot to report back.” She frowned, considering whether or not it was safe to let them do so. In her panic to rescue Lacey, she had forgotten that the Octolings were probably going to jeopardize her life.

“It’s nice of you to tell me,” she added thoughtfully, wondering if she should be more concerned than she was. 

The Octolings left with DJ Octavio, and then Lacey came into the room on shaky legs a second later. Her heart filled with fondness, May was with Lacey in a second, holding her hands. Her lovely, warm, calloused hands.

“Lacey!” May exclaimed, “you’re up!”

Lacey leaned forward to peck May on the cheek. The electric feeling she left behind lingered. “I wanted to see you.”

Captain Cuttlefish stood up very suddenly.

“I have some business I gotta do. You know where to find me.”

May gave him a little wave goodbye. It was only her and Lacey in the house. May helped her walk to the sofa. She was recovering everywhere, except, it seemed, for her left arm.

They sat down.

“How are you feeling?”

“Wonderful, now that I’m with you. Your bed is lonely.”

“Maybe I can fix that!” May blurted, feeling her face heat up. Lacey giggled.

“I would love that.” She thought for a moment, then added, “of course, I’d love to do anything with you.”

“Then we should go out sometime. On a- a date. I mean! We managed to get you out before, right?”

“Right.”

There was no conversation after that. May noticed how close she had gotten to Lacey. Close enough to curl her arms around her, cradle her in her arms. As Lacey leaned back against the couch, May rested her head on her shoulder. To think, only a week ago Lacey had nearly died. Only a week ago, May had almost lost her.

May tightened her arms.

They stayed like that for some time, giddy and light. Lacey began to play with May’s tentacles. Gently, she wrapped them around each other, braiding and unbraiding them with her weakened fingers. May found herself unwilling to move. Instead of talking, they stayed like that, together in the quiet.

* * *

Captain Cuttlefish had disappeared from the shack a while ago. Aaron found himself having to return the zapfish to the warehouse it had disappeared from. Having done that, he walked alone through the streets, back home to a Don who refused to talk.

Aaron wandered past the cafe and thought of inviting May out for some coffee or something- to see if she was okay, to catch up. Maybe ask about her crush.

Aaron smiled to himself. Yeah, that’d be great. He’d just pop over by her house, see if she was free- maybe Matt and Gill could come too! There was a definite lightness to his step as he began to wander in her general direction. Today, he decided with an unshakable grin, was for May. She’d appreciate a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, folks.


	34. In Which It Snows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go folks. I've been waiting for this chapter for ages!  
> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> As usual, a thanks to ReedRGale for helping me make this chapter coherent, and to all of my readers who are still here, sticking with me, and reading this fanfiction even though it has been Months since I last updated!

_Kepa wishes for me to meet her friends. She seems to be under the impression that they will accept me wholeheartedly despite my being an Octoling._

_Each day I wait for the Octarians to find me and drag me back for my execution. I refuse to believe I am safe here. Kepa should not be this close to me. She should know that Inklings and Octarians will never mix. The resulting catastrophe will hurt, and I do not want to see her in pain._

_-Tosix_

* * *

When Aaron had begun the day, he had not expected tears. He had not expected anger, or conflict. He had not expected the Octoling.

When he had knocked on May’s dented door earlier that day, he had expected to hang out with her. Maybe to order a pizza or go out for ice cream. To tease her about her crush or maybe even have a conversation about his own romantic interests. Perhaps get Matt and Gill involved, if May was feeling up to something larger.

The silence he had been met with was uncharacteristic of May. He had wondered for a moment whether or not she was home, but a sudden crash from behind the door caught his attention.

“May?” He had cried, worried, and knocked again.

Nothing.

“May?”

Was there a robber inside? Had something fallen? Had May fallen and injured herself? If May was in danger there was no way Aaron was leaving now.

“Are you alright in there? I’m coming in to check on you!”  
May’s cry of “wait-” was muffled by the slam of the door as he forced his way in. His only thought was of May’s safety. She was one of his best friends, one of his only friends, he needed her as much as he knew she needed him-

For a moment, the flow of time seemed to slow. Had a bullet been fired, Aaron was certain he’d have been able to watch its progression across the room. Aaron saw the Octoling, sprawled out on the floor, May looming above it, reaching out a hand. He felt his own hand move for an inkshot which wasn’t there. As he reached for his gun, bending his knees to a looser position, he met eyes with the Octoling.

The Octoling was unmasked. Its eyes were green.

Time sped up again. Aaron lunged at the Octoling.

With all of his experience, he expected it to lunge for him, or perhaps May to point a gun or a knife at one of them and threaten with a cruel smile. Aaron had not expected for the Octoling’s eyes to widen, for May to leap in front and scream at the top of her lungs:

“Stop!”

Aaron stumbled to a halt.

“M-May?” he asked, uncomprehending.

“Don’t hurt her!”

“I,” Aaron searched for words, but his only coherent thought in his boiling haze of anger and confusion was. “ _what_?”

May took a deep breath. “I said don’t hurt her.”

“May, that’s an Octoling.” _The enemy._

“I,” May swallowed, only briefly glancing away, before retorting, “I know.”

Her eyes seemed as distant as they had been when he’d first met her. She turned back to the Octoling and offered it a hand. Aaron watched stiffly, his chest tightening, as the Octoling took it. May pulled it to its feet.

“Remember back when I told you I had a crush?”

Aaron, still reeling at the idea of an Octoling not actively attempting to murder him, nodded.

“Well, we got together.” May took a deep breath, seeking out the hand of the Octoling with her own. “Aaron, I’d like you to meet Lacey. My girlfriend. We live together.”

Aaron blinked.

“Um, con...grats?” He attempted to smile. It came out wrong.  
Everything was wrong. The tightness in his chest refused to leave, constricting, cutting off circulation like a string around a finger.

The Octoling waved awkwardly at him.

“I’m Lacey,” it said in a surprisingly soft voice, “how do you do?”

The tightness grew worse. Aaron looked to May, who glanced nervously between the two of them. He wanted to scream, to yell, to strangle this Octoling. Hadn’t May spent more time fighting the Octarians than he had? Did she not remember nearly dying? Did she not remember there had been a war? They were enemies. Enemies.  
And wasn’t Aaron her friend? Secrets like this were not kept lightly. Aaron would have told May about this. Why hadn’t May told Aaron?

Aaron opened his mouth to tell May exactly those thoughts.  
Instead, he said: “I’m happy things worked out with your crush,” turned, and walked slowly from the apartment.

* * *

Everything had passed as a blur. Lacey had crashed to the carpet, Aaron had burst in, and May was still reeling from the aftershock. She stared at the empty doorway from which Aaron had left, feeling rather lost.

“I’m sorry I fell.”

“Not your fault,” May kissed Lacey softly on the cheek.

For a moment they held each other. All was quiet.

“Will he report us?” Lacey whispered into May’s neck. She was trembling. “I won’t be separated from you. He can’t do that.” Her fingers tightened on the back of May’s shirt, strong even with her weakened grip.

May thought for a moment, of Aaron’s violent attitude toward Octarians, of his anger. He was her friend, but he could be cruel.

At the same time thought of a kind smile, of soft conversations on her sofa, and going out for pizza. She remembered the inkling who had defended her, fought alongside her for months, who cared for her when she had felt lonely. She thought of soft conversations on her sofa, before she had ever spoken to Lacey. He had been her first real friend after years of being alone.

Had this been when they first met, May would not have been able to put her faith in him. But that was months ago. Now, things were different.

“I trust him,” May said.

“Let's hope he trusts you too.”

* * *

Aaron stumbled mechanically down the memorized path through May’s apartment building. He was trembling. Rage coursed through his body, twisting and swirling with a rush of betrayal.

The image of her holding hands with that Octoling, the Octoling she should have been fighting, who should have been trying to kill her, flashed in his mind. He shivered.

Oh. He was outside.

It had begun to grow cold. The first months of winter were finally arriving. In all the chaos of his life, Aaron had barely noticed the seasons changing. Yet here they were, the dark clouds that would soon bring snow to Inkopolis. Did May have a winter coat? He didn’t know. When was the last time he and May had really talked? When had May last told him something important? Something like ‘oh Aaron, just wanted to tell you, my crush is an Octoling, heads up!’  
Never.

The tightness only grew in his chest, twisting and snapping, feral.

The worst part was that Aaron couldn’t tell what upset him more. That May was dating an Octoling, or that May had never bothered to tell him about it.

Distantly, he realized he was in front of his own door, turning the key. He stepped inside his house, footsteps echoing. It was empty, as usual, he was all alone-

Oh. Don.

The Inkling had not moved from his spot on the sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling from under his comforter. Aaron’s comforter. Here was a piece of May’s past, one of May’s issues, which Aaron was dealing with why, exactly? Don had been rude to May, but May had created the issue in the first place when she had lied. She wasn’t even helping fix her own damn mistakes. She was just making more.

A new sympathy for Don built itself in Aaron’s chest. He watched Don blink, once, twice, shift in his covers, and stare blankly. As one note as ever.

Would this guy ever change?

“Are you going to sit on my sofa forever?” Aaron snapped. “You’re sulking about how you got kicked out, but never once have you tried to do anything to help yourself. I’ve been trying to help you this whole time, and you barely acknowledge me. Get off your ass, you lazy fuck. There are more people in the world than just you.”

He stormed away, feeling awful, leaving a wide-eyed Don behind him.

When he got to his bedroom, he shut the door, and sat alone in the dark. Faces flashed in his head, over and over. May, the Octoling, his grandfather. He felt betrayed, confused. He was as lonely as he had been before he’d met Matt and Gill and May.

Night came and went with no sleep.

Aaron left his bedroom feeling as empty and cold as the day his grandfather had died. He walked past the sofa (empty) and into his kitchen. Don was pouring himself a glass of orange juice. He slid something over to Aaron.

Not bothering to look, Aaron left the kitchen.

He exited the house, in yesterday’s clothes, without bothering to put on shoes.

He began walking down the street, barely noticing the cold of the concrete, or the dark clouds above him. He had no idea where he was going. Just that it was not home, and it was not to May.

May, May, May. His friend, or a traitor? The Octoling. An Octoling. There was no dispute in identity there. Octolings, Aaron knew, were supposed to stay out of Inkopolis. They did not belong here.

He found himself standing in front of Inkopolis’ Military Headquarters.

Another Inkling was walking inside, wearing the uniform of a cadet. Aaron followed. The Inkling was about his age, with long tentacles pulled back into a ponytail. He had seen this Inkling somewhere. There was something familiar about him.

The Inkling suddenly turned, and caught his gaze.

“Can I help you,” he asked, scowling.

“I’m here to, I want to-”

Report an Octoling sighting.

Report a traitor.

“...report...”

The Inkling raised an eyebrow.

_Report May._

Aaron’s attempt to force his mouth to form words failed.

Instead, he gagged, clutching a hand to his face.

“...nevermind."

He couldn’t do it.

“Anthias!” A voice echoed through the reception area. Aaron glanced up to see a tall woman in a Captain’s uniform. “It’s time.”

The soldier named Anthias turned and left him without a word.

Aaron watched him go. For a moment, his memory flashed back to a night at the SquidMart, to a beat up Inkling yelling at him to fuck off.

This time, Aaron followed those instructions, and left HQ.

* * *

“Well,” Kepa said as they stood in the elevator, “did you make any friends?”

“No.”

She sighed.

“Keep reading the journal, kid. Learn what you can. I’ll be interrogating that Octoling today.”

* * *

Aaron was unsure what brought him to the Captain’s shack. Perhaps he wanted to let off some steam and fight, or to tell Captain Cuttlefish about the Octoling, or maybe just have someplace secluded to cry.

“Aaron!” Captain Cuttlefish said excitedly, when Aaron showed up, “good to see you!”

Aaron nodded a greeting, glancing at Captain Cuttlefish for a moment before looking off forlornly in the distance.

Then he noticed the empty globe where DJ Octavio was supposed to be. Coupled with the unconcerned face of Cuttlefish-

Damn it, not another one.

Cuttlefish looked at Aaron, then back to the globe.

“I put him in there to cool down,” Cuttlefish said, “and he seems to have done that fine. Old as he and I are, neither of us are really in any state to fight a war again.”  
Finally, finally, Aaron found his words.

“He’s- he’s the enemy! He kidnapped you! He tried to kill May! He tried to take over Inkopolis! And you just let him out? He’s an Octarian! He shouldn’t be anywhere near Inkopolis! He should be dead! He should be locked away! You just let him- you- this is clearly going to backfire! First May and now you! Why do you trust these things? Haven’t you been fighting for years!?”

It was then he noticed he was crying.

Captain Cuttlefish’s bulging eyes narrowed. He brought a gnarled hand to his chin, as though in thought, then turned and grabbed something from behind him. He hobbled on his cane to where Aaron sat, and settled next to him with a groan.

“You know,” he began, placing the item he had grabbed in front of Aaron. It was the book of sunken scrolls May had found. “Inklings and Octarians weren’t always enemies. We used to be friends.”

“And then,” Aaron snarled, “the Octarians betrayed us because they wanted our land since water was covering theirs.”

Cuttlefish shook his head. “We were all desperate. I never wanted to fight Octavio. We were friends, of a sort. Closer.”

He opened the book to a black and white photo of an Inkling and an Octarian. The Inkling wore Cuttlefish’s army cap, with three medals over his heart. The Octarian was dressed in intricate regalia, wearing a headdress Aaron recognised from its place atop Octavio’s head.

“This is you,” Aaron breathed, “you and Octavio, isn’t it?”

“Who else would wear a hat that stupid?”

Had it been any other day, Aaron would have laughed. Instead, he tapped harshly at the photo, urging Cuttlefish to continue.

“We had to fight each other, in the end. It ruined everything. A hundred years passed and we never spoke.”

“Until Octavio attacked and May beat him.”

“And then I had him with me again. You know,” Cuttlefish stared at the photo, “I had forgotten what his laugh sounded like. But I was able to hear it again. He might try to go back to Octo Valley to resolve the power crisis, but not for a while. And I don’t think he’ll try to start another war.” Cuttlefish grinned. “Not if I have anything to say about it!”

Aaron sighed. The tightness was fading in his chest, just a bit.

“Thank you,” Aaron said, standing, “It’s good to know I have some people to talk to.”

“Good luck!”

On his walk back to his apartment, Aaron realized it was snowing. Tiny white flakes of water floated down from the sky, as though Inkopolis were bathing in a multitude of feathers. Aaron looked up at the grey sky, and smiled through his nervousness. It came out shaky, but intact.

Aaron did not trust the Octoling. How could he? But he did trust May. Aaron could not pretend things were suddenly perfect. He was not going to be able to adjust to this easily. But May was his closest friend. He could do this for her. He would do this for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws confetti* They finally met. Aaron is finally having his character development! Tune in next time for what will probably be Don actually doing something for once and an awkward conversation over dinner.


	35. In Which Ice Cream Is Shared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised Don would be in this chapter, but he isn't here at all. Sorry about that, folks!  
> As usual, thank you to ReedRGale for beta-ing, thank you to my readers for continuing to read even after I take months to update, and thank you to all of the wonderful people who commented and kept me going this summer.  
> You all deserve better than me- probably someone who actually updates more than once every three months.  
> Enjoy!

The defiant eyes Kepa stared into for a moment belonged not to the heavy, muscular Octoling in front of her but to a pale, malnourished form of an Octoling fifteen years dead.

The forms were certainly different, yes..But the defiance? That was exactly the same.

“Alright,” Kepa leaned back in her seat, removing her glasses, wiping them on her uniform, and replacing them, “look kid. You just tell me what you were doing here, and I’ll go. You won’t have to answer any more questions.”

“Fuck you!” spat the Octoling. Her voice called to mind Anthias. “Torture me all you want. I’ll never talk!”

“Nobody is torturing anybody.”

“Says the  _ Inkling.” _

“Look kid. This doesn’t have to be difficult. Why are you here?”

The Octoling managed to lift a shaky middle finger despite her restraints. Kepa almost laughed.

“How about I answer a question of yours, and you answer a question of mine?”

“What would I possibly want to know?”

“You aren’t curious about what I did to you? Why you’re having trouble moving?”

Silence. She had the Octoling’s attention.

“I’ll tell you, if you just answer a single question.”

“I won’t talk.”

“I’ll even help you recover your range of motion.”

“You Inklings are all rotten liars.”

“And if I told you that your own government was lying to you? What then?”

“You’re still lying.”

“Am I?”

The Octoling was silent. Then: “Why should I believe you?”

“You’ve got no reason to. But you will.”

In the Octoling’s glare, saturated with suspicion and hate, Kepa felt as though she were fifteen years younger. As though instead of this child across from her it was Tosix, wounded, freshly escaped from Octo-Valley.

“Nothing you do will convince me,” stated the Octoling with an air of finality.

Kepa sighed. She needed a drink.

“Alright Tosix, that's enough for today.”

“Tosix?”

Fuck. 

“Look kid, I don’t know your name. You want me to call you something else?”

“I won’t tell you anything.”

“Alright, Tosix, suit yourself.”

* * *

 

Aaron arrived at May’s door that afternoon, his hands had almost frozen to a pint of ice cream. He grit his teeth, frowned, raised a hand to knock on the door, then lowered it again.

He could do this. He had to do this. For May.

Aaron forced himself to knock three times against the chipping paint. When the door swung open, he held the ice cream up like a shield.

“I uh- I brought you ice cream. As an apology for storming off yesterday.”

“Isn’t it snowing outside?”

“Yes?”

May shook her head, smiling softly.

“I’m not that picky. Come in!”

The Octoling was hovering awkwardly by the door when Aaron entered. He almost flinched at the sight of her, but held it in.

_ Baby steps,  _ he thought,  _ just take baby steps. _

That Octoling,  _ Lacey-  _ boy would that take getting used to- held out a hand to him. 

“Let me reintroduce myself,” she said, “my name is Lacey. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s- it’s nice to meet you to Lacey,” Aaron bit, “I’m Aaron. You’re the lucky girl who gets to date May?”

“The luckiest girl in the world, that’s for sure.”

“Damn right you are.”

Okay. This was easy. He could do this. If anyone was the master at making friends, it was Aaron. He had managed to befriend  _ May _ . He could befriend an Octoling.

“I’ll scoop us some ice cream,” May told them, “thanks, Aaron.”

May disappeared, a moment later returning with two plastic bowls of ice cream in her hands. She had piled both bowls with whipped cream, and, Aaron noticed wryly, drawn the whipped cream on Lacey’s into a little heart.

Aaron spent the next five minutes shoveling as much ice cream as he could into his mouth. He focused on the inside of his bowl, pointedly not thinking about how neither May nor Lacey were eating.

“In Octo-Valley,” Lacey probed, “we don’t have ice cream.”

“That's very tragic.” Aaron found himself saying. Tentatively, he glanced up into Lacey’s eyes.

“Everything has to be rationed in the Kettles. We don’t have the resources for ice cream.”

Aaron frowned. “That’s awful.” 

He thought back to his own forays in the kettles- the dim lights, the massive screens displaying sky, fizzling on the edges with static. It all seemed a little depressing now, proof not of a dysfunctional and self serving society, but of a world buried, clawing for anything of its own.

“I want to go back someday,” Lacey said, “to try and help it, but I don’t know if there’s anything I can do. Especially now. I’m sort of considered a traitor.”

“A traitor?”

“Colluding with the enemy.”

“I for one,” May chimed in, “am very happy you’re colluding with me.” May accentuated her point by pecking Lacey on the cheek.

They were oddly adorable. When he saw the pleased little smile take to Lacey’s face, he almost forgot she was an Octoling. Almost.

Simultaneously, all three took a bite of their ice cream.

“Damn,” said May, “that’s the expensive stuff.”

“Only the best for my best friend.”

May cracked a grin and made a joke. As laughter wracked his body, his smile brightened and joy melted his heart, Aaron saw it.It was a small little future- not a vision, but a hope. A future with May and Lacey and Aaron, Matt and Gill, maybe even someone more, standing together in a circle, laughing, just like they were laughing now. They were outside, with Lacey in broad daylight, undisguised. Not like the first time Aaron had seen her when he had teased May about her crush. 

It was as though he was staring into a thousand-faceted diamond and seeing a thousand different visions of happiness. Everyone he cared about was relaxed. It was a world at peace. 

The hope was so thick and real that Aaron felt he could touch it. And something inside him wanted that future, the future where all was well, and all were happy.

Yeah.He wouldn’t mind that.

* * *

 

Captain Kepa found Anthias later, waiting in her office, spinning around in her chair, his face buried in Tosix’s journal. Something selfish wanted to take it away before he could ruin her last memento. Something else wanted him to keep it. To read what she could not, and understand.

“Well?” she asked, leaning against the doorway to her office.

Anthias looked up.

“She was in love with you,” he accused, brows furrowed, “she was in love with you and she never told you.”

Kepa swallowed. Shut her eyes. Removed her glasses and wiped them, to calm hands which had started to tremble, confirming what she had been too afraid to confront for fifteen years.

“And?” she finally rasped, after what felt like forever.

“I don’t understand. How can- how can an Octoling feel love?”

“Let me ask you something, kid. Have you ever been in love before?”

“I don’t- I don’t know. What is it supposed to feel like?” Anthias glanced down at the notebook. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t seem angry anymore.

She had hit something vulnerable in the kid.

“Anthias,” she said, looking him in the eyes, “it’s different for everyone. And everyone can feel it- love doesn’t even have to be romantic. Is there anybody in your life you care for?”

Kepa had an idea of what his answer might be. Something she had suspected from the moment she met him- an angry kid with no outlet, who came to work beat up.

“I don’t-”

While Anthias looked down deep in thought, Kepa had a thought of her own: What the fuck am I doing? Where was all this wisdom coming from? If anyone knew anything about love, it was not Kepa. She had managed to miss how Tosix felt. What made her qualified to teach a kid about it?

“I don’t have-” Anthias stopped himself, biting his lower lip.

“Is something the matter, kid?”

“I don’t think... that I have anyone.” He said it so quietly it was near a whisper. “I’m- there’s nobody.”

“Nobody you care for?”

“Nobody  _ to  _ care for.”

“Oh, kid.”

When Anthias looked up at her, his lip was trembling, but her gaze was caught on his eyes. Sad and empty. Lost. Like Tosix had been, right near the end. In that last night, in the interrogation room, before the Octarian representatives had arrived, Tosix had returned the notebook.

_ “Tosix,”  _ Kepa could still remember saying, clutching it to her chest,  _ “I never meant for all this to happen. I’m- I’m so- I-” _

Tosix had said nothing. Just stared at her, eyes hollow.

The scene had engraved itself into her heart.

For years since, Kepa had been unable to face that journal, unwilling to look back at, to understand that expression. 

Maybe it was finally time to remember.

“I’m lonely. I’m so lonely. I’ve pushed everyone away- I- I- can’t stop getting fucking angry- no matter how hard I try- I’ll never-” Anthias’ shoulders had risen. He tugged at his tentacles in agitation. There were tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

“Kid,” Kepa interrupted, “you have me.”

Anthias’ stare was incredulous. 

Once again, it brought to mind Tosix. Her own confused looks, in the beginning. Her sharp gaze which had dulled over time like a pencil seeing too much use. She had come up a lot recently, hadn’t she? Anthias was a lot like her, in a way. In time, maybe Kepa could do for him what she hadn’t managed for Tosix, and give him the support he truly needed. No failures this time.

“I’ll be here for you, kid.”

“I’ll just push you away.”

“Come on kid, I befriended  _ Tosix.  _ I can definitely befriend you.”

Anthias looked at her. Kepa stared back.

“I promise, Anthias, I’ll look out for you. You won’t have ‘nobody.’”

Anthias gave one, quiet: “Okay.”

\---

After some time, the three had moved to the sofa. Aaron stared blankly into his empty ice cream bowl.

“I almost turned you in, you know,” he said during a lull in the conversation.

“Hey,” said May, “in the end you didn’t.”

“But I almost did. What if I had?”

“I knew you wouldn’t.”

Aaron was silent. “You trust so easily now. You’re so...  _ different  _ from when I met you.”

He remembered a lonesome, tired Inkling, callous at his offer of friendship. Compared to that, May seemed happy, content. When had she changed? What had Aaron missed?

“May,” he said after a moment, “I don’t know what sort of thing you’re caught up in but- be careful, okay? I’m happy you’re trusting people, but it's a double edged sword.”

“I know,” said May, “I’ve broken trust before. I know how it works.”

“Just promise me you’ll be careful?”

May cracked a smile. “Promise.”

“And you, Lacey?”

Lacey, who had been silent for some time now, startled.

“What about me?”

“I can trust you, right? You aren’t going to hurt May?”

“May is the love of my life.” Lacey stared directly into Aaron’s eyes. Her gaze was determined, intense. Aaron watched her hand slide to find May’s at the edge of his vision. May gave her a comforting squeeze.

“Okay,” Aaron decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They are friends now! *throws confetti*  
> You know, sometimes I feel like this fanfiction is just a Naruto episode or something with all that I push that friendship theme.


	36. In Which Commander Kelp Manages To Be Cute For Roughly Three Seconds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after roughly a quarter of a year, I finally have the next chapter out! *obligatory confetti*  
> Thank you so much for your patience while I tried to smash this thing out between college applications, IB papers, and a bunch of exams. And thank you, as always, to ReedRGale who is the most excellent of beta-readers.  
> I'm really excited to be sharing this chapter with you guys! I hope you enjoy it!

Morning in the caves came with the booting up of the screens, fizzling to display the cloudy morning sky. Mallory was already awake, striding to Commander Kelp’s office.

It was quiet moments like these, when the only sound was his slippers against the floor, when he wasn’t surrounded by soldiers, or meeting other Octolings, or following the Commander around, that Mallory took the time to think about how wild his life had become.

It was easy to separate it into two- before and after Commander Kelp. Before his and after his torture.

Mallory turned down one empty hallway and into another, past the endless doors to the barracks, where soldiers would just now be waking up and donning armor. Once upon a time, he had been the secretary to a general now dead.

Kelp had made certain of that.

Once upon a time, he had been given a message to deliver. And Commander Kelp had taken that message, and taken him, and torn everything to shreds. Phantom pains ached when he thought about it. He did not want to think about it. Only a couple minutes, and he had been terrified. He was still terrified, but it was a different sort now, as though he were chasing a storm that could easily cripple him, instead of being dragged by the neck to a slow moving guillotine.

When he arrived, Commander Kelp was already awake and leaning against her office door. Her head turned to him at the sound of his slippers.

“You got the papers?”

Mallory held out the folder he’d been carrying in his arms and nodded.

“Give ‘em here.”

_Odd,_ thought Mallory as he handed her the folder, _she seems... looser today._

There were many adjectives with which Mallory would describe Commander Kelp. Coiled. Tight. Predatory. Never once did “loose” appear on that list. Yet here she was, languidly flipping through the papers in the folder. The moment felt surreal. Quiet.

“Alright, kid,” she rasped, voice scratchy in the haze of morning, “everything’s here. Nice job.”

Mallory froze.

“...thank you?” he forced out.

Kelp responded to this by patting him lightly on the head three times, before her hand stopped just above his tentacles. Mallory was trembling at her touch. The phantom pain had returned. He repressed a shiver.

Her hands on him, grabbing, pulling, _twisting_ at his tentacles. Throat raw from screaming--

Footsteps. A click. Commander Kelp had disappeared into her office with the folder. Idly, Mallory realized he still had no idea what its contents were.

Now he would be wondering all week.

* * *

 

Snow flaked from the sky and crusted the tops of city buildings. Standing alone in Aaron’s apartment, staring out the window, all Don could think about was how he shouldn’t have been watching this alone.

He should have been standing there with Sandy leaning against the windowsill, with Terra and Gravel snuggling so close it was disgusting, the four of them casually bantering about something inane and irrelevant. He shouldn’t have been alone so close to Squidmas.

And yet he was, and it was all his fault.

_What a fucking loser._

He caught his reflection in the window. Washed out. Too pale. Sallow. Still brooding even after he had spent so much time he had lost track already doing that. Why hadn’t he gotten a job around here? Found his own place? Or done some turf war? Or apologized to any of his teammates? Did they even want to see him? _Don_ wouldn’t want to see himself either.

_This was pathetic._

Glowering at his reflection, Don huffed.

“You’re better than this,” he told himself.

Even Aaron, annoyingly patient, had become fed up with him. He had really hit the bottom of the canyon, hadn’t he?

There was a click as the door to Aaron’s apartment swung open. Don turned, meeting Aaron’s gaze. The inkling was smiling, but upon seeing Don, that grin faded. Neither moved. The door remained open.

“I-” Don started, but had no idea what to say. Aaron sighed, closing the door behind him. Don found himself tripping over his subdued behavior. There were no enthusiastic declarations of support, nor any obvious anger like there had been the other day. Aaron just looked tired.

“You what?” he asked, after a moment.

“I am,” Don swallowed, “sorry?”

“I’m really not the one you should be apologizing to.”

May.

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow.

“Or do you not want to see her?”

Don scowled. He had been doing that a lot lately.

Aaron ignored him and kept talking.

“How many years has it been since she hurt you? Four? And you’re still not over it?”

Don’s shoulders slumped. “Five years,” he admitted, “we were thirteen. And I don’t hate her. Not anymore. But I can’t get over it.” He sat down right there on the floor, pressing his cheek to his palm. “You don’t understand. We found out what she’d done, and our prize was revoked, and I blew up at her, and then she was gone. My last memory of her was a betrayal and then _nothing._ She just wasn’t there.”

Aaron was silent for a moment. Then:

“May ran away to live in the city when she was _thirteen?_ ”

Don sighed, leaning back against the wall beneath the window.

“I don’t know _what_ she did. One day she was there, and one day she wasn’t.”

They sat in silence. After a moment, Aaron sat beside Don, the two of them staring at Aaron’s still open door, a rectangle of light beaming into the dim apartment.

“You hurt her, you know.” Aaron finally said.

“She hurt me too.” rasped Don. “She-” he sniffed.

“How did she hurt you, Don?”

“She _left!”_ He felt like a baby. “She was my best friend and she just- she just left!” Don rubbed at his eyes, looking away from Aaron. He didn’t want the other inkling to see him cry.

“Hey,” said Aaron, “come on. Just let it go.” He pulled Don into a hug. “You’ve held onto this for too long now. Let it go.”

He was smoothing a hand over the top of Don’s head. It was... nice.

“This is- so dumb.” Don sniffled into Aaron’s shirt. “I’m better than this...”

“Shh,” whispered Aaron, “just let it go. Just let it all go.”

Mixed into Don’s embarrassment at being held was a heady rush of relief, relaxing the tension in his shoulders.

“How about tomorrow we go and apologize to May, huh? Leave all the pain behind.”

Don nodded, burrowing his face further into Aaron’s shirt. Tomorrow, yeah. Tomorrow it would all be over.

* * *

They slept in the same bed, now.

Every morning they’d wake up with their limbs tangled together. Lacey, per military training, woke at the brink of dawn. Though her left arm remained numb, movement came more easily now. On this particular morning she sat up in the greyness of May’s room, lit only by a stream of light from the shaded window. May, still asleep, was drooling on the pillow, one arm splayed to the left, the other leaning against Lacey. The bags under her eyes had lessened. She was smiling.

This felt like the past. A black and white movie, one of those film noirs that May had shown Lacey once. At any second, someone would come bursting through the room to take all this away. And she would be ready.

But instead, May was waking up. Her face was pleasant, smooth, even as she yawned. Lacey caught a glimpse sharp white teeth, then they were obscured behind two wonderful pink lips.

“Good morning, sunshine,” whispered Lacey.

“What time is it?” moaned May. She leaned over, glancing at a clock. “Seven AM? Jeez Lacey, why are we up so early?”

Lacey shrugged. “This is my normal wake up time. Why are _you_ up so early?”

“Guess I wanted to see you.” she pushed herself upward. “To spend as much time as possible with my wonderful girlfriend!” As an accent, she planted a large, sloppy kiss on Lacey’s lips as dramatically as she could. Then they both broke into giggles.

“Let's go out today,” Lacey said, suddenly. She met May’s eyes. “We could meet your other friends. Or get ice cream.”

May’s answering smile seemed to warm the entire room. “Of course!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you love the smell of character development in the afternoon?  
> If you want to contact me outside of ao3, get updates on how the next chapter of FAKADS is going, or maybe see what other strange things I'm trying to write, my twitter is @the_flan_knight.  
> Thank you so much for reading!


	37. In Which Anthias Has a Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Title: In Which Don Goes to the Cafe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: OH NO I FORGOT TO PUT IN THE CHAPTER NOTES  
> Heeeeey guys. Sorry for the big wait, but hopefully the time of 3 month long waits for FAKADS chapters will be over because I'm almost done writing the entire fanfiction. Which means it's mostly in the editing stages. Pretty soon it'll be finished. I want to thank you all for sticking with me this long. I hope the ending lives up to your expectations.  
> Seriously, thank you so much. It's been all of your nice comments and kudos that have kept me writing this fanfiction through a broken WiiU and not owning a Switch- I haven't been able to play Splatoon in over a year, but you all have kept me going anyway! Your support has meant a lot to me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.  
> I'd also like to have a Thank You Circle for ReedRGale, the only reason this fanfiction isn't a mess. Thank you, ReedRGale!  
> I hope you enjoy!

_The one thing I can never tell Kepa: I am in love with her smile. Her eyes seem to glow when she looks at me and I find myself flustered. She is in the inkling military but does not inform them of me. She trusts me with all of her secrets. Today Kepa told me of her estranged family, and showed me how to cook. She has not read my diary. She brings me flowers and makes me good food, better than rations. She does not make me train from dawn till dusk and then later, nor does she keep any information from me._

_She fell asleep while I was in the same room as her, when I could have easily brought a knife to her neck. I felt, then, as though I had to show her my trust as well. So I did it. I told her the secret. That secret. I have no idea how else to express my affections._

_The entire reason why I am on the run I have whispered into her ear. I placed her hands on my back and left arm and showed her the movements which could incapacitate me in seconds. She is strong, strong enough to do it if she wished._

_She asked what I meant by all this._

_I told her the reason why I ran, what I found, everything. When she began to cry, I wanted to kiss away her tears. When I asked her what the matter was, she thanked me for trusting her. Then she hugged me close, and rubbed my back. We stayed there for a long time- I don’t know how long. But long enough that we fell asleep. When I awoke she had left me lunch and this note, which I have pasted in here to keep always:_

 

_Gone out on an errand! Sorry to leave you alone. Be back soon! <3 _

 

_I imagine her smiling as she wrote it, all the way down to the little heart she drew. I am so glad I told her. Perhaps later, I will tell her how I feel._

 

Anthias flipped to the next entry without reading it, and then the next, which was blank. As were the rest of the pages. He frowned, scowling, and looked up at Kepa.

Her posture was perfect, her face blank as her fingers rushed across the keys of her laptop. There was a puritanical feel to her uniform, cleaned and pressed and buttoned to the neck. Her tentacles shaped away from her face, he only saw her expression change when she scowled. He closed his eyes and tried to reconcile this image with the young, emotional Kepa from the journal. He could not.

“Kepa?” he said.

She looked up quicker than lighting, directly at him.

“Kid?” Her eyes were warm, and possibly concerned.

“I’m about to read the last entry.”

“Is that so...” her gaze turned downward. “Why don’t you tell me how it ends?”

“Haven’t you already read it?”

Kepa blinked. “I... couldn’t do it. Not even the first entry.”

It seemed to Anthias, for the first time, that he was holding something priceless in his hands. Something was being entrusted to him. Something important.

Nobody had ever trusted him with anything before. That anger that boiled in the pit of his stomach burned whoever got close; charred their concerned faces with bruises. He felt, as he often did, the need to hurt something. Anthias tightened his clutch on the diary and glanced at the adult before him.

Kepa had promised to be there for him. She would not let him feel alone anymore.

Anthias looked at the last entry, stained with blue fingerprints. Not from pen ink- that was the color of dried blood. He read:

 

_They won’t let me see Kepa. It seems that this journal, my first gift from her, will be my last._

_The Inkling military is sending me back to Octo Valley, where I will certainly be executed. At least then it will all be over._

_I wish Kepa had not done this. She meant well, I think. I hope. I still love her. I cannot stop loving her- could not do more than scratch her face with my knife when she held me down.  They were her friends I was going to kill, I think. She must have had friends in the military. Perhaps she told them about me, like she planned, and they turned me in. I don’t know what happened, except that they were there. Her apartment is a mess, I think I may have gotten blood on the ceiling._

_I wish I still had my other eye. I wish I could have looked at Kepa one last time. I am uncertain whether or not to hate her. I still love her. I think I wrote at the start that this would all go wrong, one way or another. I cannot remember. I am too tired to look. All of me is shaking. I do not wish to die._

 

That was it. The end. No sign off, no hope. Tosix had simply stopped writing in that scrawling, messy Octarian script. Anthias bit his lip, then he clenched his hands into fists, then his entire body shook. He thought perhaps he was angry, but he couldn’t tell. It felt too close to that sorrow he felt when he was alone, to the aftermath of a brutal fight in the arena. It was anger and sadness and some other third thing he could not recognise, boiling together in the cauldron of his heart, releasing angry red steam which would billow from his nose and ears and mouth and burn Kepa.

“Breathe,” said a calm voice, “breathe with me, kid.”

His vision was white but he could feel Kepa’s gentle, calloused hand take his, press it onto the cloth above her breast. Beneath his fingers thumped a heartbeat, a chest which rose and fell slowly. He inhaled and exhaled alongside it, shutting his eyes to cut out the burn of tears.

“She loved you to the end,” he whispered. The calm up and down of the chest hitched, and then he was buried in strong arms. “What did you do?”

“I gouged her eye out.” Kepa’s voice was like shattered china.

Anthias breathed in. Kepa’s office was musty as ever, and her uniform smelled like detergent and fresh flowers. She said she would be there for him. And now he had to know.

“What happened?”

“She told me everything. And I told- I told my boss. I thought it would help. I thought it would end everything keeping her from living openly in Inkopolis. From living with me. It only made it worse.”

“What did you tell?”

He needed to know. And Kepa told him. In great, _harsh_ detail, she told him.

Anthias clenched his fists. He needed to hurt something, badly. That anger was boiling again, his ears ringing, his vision blurring. He stood, stalking from Kepa’s office, striding as fast as he could, Kepa on his heels. The elevator was close now, closer. His feet crossed its threshold, the door slamming behind him, blocking Kepa from entry. Strange. Anthias had barely noticed it was open.

Still, he was alone. Anthias pressed the button for the floor which he knew held the Octoling and it- no, _she._ And he had to see her.

If Tosix could feel love, and betrayal, and pain and sorrow, than maybe so could this Octoling. Maybe so could all Octolings. He had been so _stupid,_ and now he was angry at himself, too, for eating up every ‘fact’ he had ever been told about a people he had never met. Well _now_ he would go meet one, and he would tell it everything. The doors slid open, leaving one hallway between him and the Octoling.

Anthias strode to the Octoling’s holding cell, only to stop at the door.

Of course, there was someone guarding it.

_Idiot._ Remarked an icy voice in him, which he resolutely ignored.

“Hey,” Anthias said, “I’m here to take over your shift.”

“Bullshit,” said the guard, who Anthias ignored. “I’m here until ten.”

“Let. Me. In.”

The guard went to grab his communicator, but stopped short as he fell. Anthias had slammed the man’s head into the solid, steel door. In a second, he swiped the cell’s key, and slipped into the room. He probably had a few minutes before Kepa caught up to him.

“My name is Anthias,” he said, the moment he entered the room, “I’m here to talk.”

The Octoling stared at him from a barren white bed to which she had been handcuffed, sitting cross legged atop the standard blanket.

“Nothing you tell me will make me talk,” the Octoling asserted. “I remain loyal to the Octarians.”

Anthias shook his head. “I’m not here for information. I’m here for you.”

“Meaning?”

“I want to talk.”

“Great,” the Octoling groaned. “More Inklings here to talk my ears off. I told you. I’m. Not. Talking. I’d sooner bite off my tongue.”

Aaron grit his teeth, lowering himself to the floor. Now, below her, he tried to imagine his pent up frustration leaving him like an untied balloon pinched between two fingers. Slow. Controlled. He breathed deeply. Come on. Talk.

“I want to understand you,” he told it-her. “And I know a secret your government has been hiding from you.”

The Octoling shook her head. “That line has already been used on me. I won’t talk.”

“Why do you fight?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why do you fight?” He had to know. Had to know everything. What, how, why. He had to understand the enemy. The Octoling before him had gone from enemy to person over the course of one journal. Who was _she_ , that she was _here?_ And who was Tosix?

“I fight out of loyalty to my people, against monsters like you.”

Anthias bit his lip to keep from lashing out. _Person_ , he reminded himself. She was a _person_.

“We are not monsters,” he snarled.

“Really? You take our land. You monopolize the zapfish. You change and hurt our people. You forced us _underground.”_

“I never did those things to you!”

“Have you ever wondered why Inkopolis is so close to Octo Valley? It wasn’t always Inkling land, monster, and you live on it.”

Anthias slammed his fist on the ground. “I came here to help you!”

The Octoling’s gaze was cold. “And now you fall to violence. You Inklings are so predictable.”

“That’s-”

That’s just me, he wanted to say, but he forced the words down. Now was not the time for self-deprecation. He had an Octoling to talk to.

“We aren’t all like this!”

“Prove it. Prove you won’t take advantage of me, or hurt me.”

Anthias tried to speak but could say nothing. His tongue was tied in his mouth, he wanted to scream and cry all at once.

“You can’t.” Her voice was smug. “You have no way to prove your intentions. Not with me locked up.”

Anthias shot to his feet, stomping to the heavy door.

“That’s right,” said the Octoling, “ _get out.”_

It was at this moment that Anthias realized the cell door had locked behind him. He turned back to the Octoling.

“What’s your name?”

The question caught her off guard.

“My name?”

“Yes. Your name!”

“This is all a ploy. You’re trying to trick me.”

“I’m not! Just for once, trust me!”

His words echoed off the barren walls. The Octoling blinked, maybe in shock. Anthias couldn’t tell, still struggling to keep down his own frustration. After a moment, the Octoling muttered something beneath her breath.

“What?”

“I said Chalcedony. My name. It’s Chalcedony.”

“I’m Anthias.”

“You already told me that.”

Anthias shrugged.

“Thought it’d be polite.”

Now the silence was awkward instead of tense. Anthias scratched at the back of his head. Chalcedony stared at the wall behind Anthias’ face, crossing and uncrossing her legs.

“Hey,” she murmured, after a moment, “what was that conspiracy you mentioned?”

“Do you know who Tosix is?”

“A traitor to the Octarians. She defected to the Inklings, was sent back, and made an example of. She’s a cautionary tale to those... less aligned with Octo Valley.”

It sounded about right. Anthias inhaled, held the breath, and released it, just like Kepa had taught him.

“Here is why she fled.”

And he told her everything Kepa had told him. His mouth stumbled over the words; he was unqualified to talk about this. But Kepa wouldn’t unless this Octoling spoke up in return, and she was too sad for it anyway. Better him, than her. Someone separate from the situation, who didn’t see Tosix staring back at him through Chalcedony’s eyes.

By the time he finished, Chalcedony had retreated to the corner of the bed, covering her eyes with her hands.

“Experimentation...” she moaned. “This is propaganda. This has to be propaganda.”

“It’s true.”

The secret wasn’t one he’d ever write down- even to name it made him sick. Anthias had no clue what to do with it, other than pass it on to an Octarian. From here, perhaps, she would do something.

Suddenly, a hard knock came muffled through the door, which opened abruptly, revealing Kepa.

“This was incredibly stupid,” she scolded, eyes harder than stone behind her glasses. “What did you tell her?”

“Everything.”

Kepa’s eyes flashed. Grabbing Anthias’ arm, she dragged him from the room. The door swung locked behind them.

“She knows now, whether she believes it or not.”

Kepa wasn’t listening. “Do you have any idea how many strings I’ve had to pull to keep you from getting kicked out? You attacked the _guard!_ This was reckless!”

“And you were a wreck! I needed to do _something.”_

“And that something was give away the only leverage we have?”

“I’m just trying to help!”

“No you aren’t,” Kepa accused. “You just wanted to see a real Octoling up close for yourself.” She rubbed her temples, scowling. Anthias clenched his fists, but focused on breathing. Just like Kepa had taught him, he repeated, over and over. In, hold, out. In, hold, out. The haze lessened.

“I’m sorry,” Kepa sighed, after a moment, “that was terrible of me to say. And I’m supposed to be here for you.”

“No,” Anthias said, mind clearing, “you were sort of right. I _did_ just want to talk.”

“I’m not redacting my apology, but that’s awfully mature of you to admit.”

“I’m trying to grow,” Anthias said. “So that people like me more. Is it working?”

“I’d say it is. You may have befriended an Octoling, there.”

“Her name is Chalcedony,” Anthias informed her. “I think she hates me.”

Kepa laughed. “That’s how it started for me, too.”

* * *

 

They met at the cafe.

It was just the three of them; Aaron, May and Don, each in a fold out wicker chair, around one tiny round table. Nobody spoke but Aaron, who was blabbering something inane over the sound of wind and bells in the distance. Not real talk, just filler to permeate the silence. She stared at her menu, but the words weren’t registering. Don was there. He was _right there_ next to her, and he hadn’t blown up, or glared, or done anything at all but stare at his menu.

A waiter came by to take their orders. Aaron waved them away.

May found herself wishing for Lacey. She imagined the Octoling sitting next to her. Perhaps they would share a seat. Lacey would hold her hand, would rub gentle fingers on her knee, remind her that she wasn’t alone. Lacey would fight Don if he did anything, and she would be there to wipe away the tears afterward.

Aaron said something about the importance of drinking milk. May cracked a smile. It felt like ages since she had seen him, although it had only been a few days ago that they shared ice cream with Lacey. Her smile softened with something close to joy.

Then May glanced at Don. His face was blanker than unused toilet paper, but his fingers crumpled the edges of the menu with a tight grip.

“So,” said Aaron, clasping his fingers together, “are you both ready to order?”

“I-” answered Don, but that was all he said, because May had just met his eyes. “I don’t think we’re ready yet.” His chair clattered to the floor, loud as a foghorn. Frozen, his eyes roamed over the interested gazes of cafe patrons and waiters. Don bit his lip, face flushing bright blue. He glanced down at the hand around his wrist- Aaron’s hand, before returning his seat upright and lurching into it.

Aaron smiled, nodding. “Go for it.”

Don swallowed, jerking his head in May’s direction until their eyes met. Pushing down the apprehension, May tried to remember the feeling of Lacey’s hands. Wrapped around hers, playing with her long tentacles, touching her face. Soft and warm and comforting.

“I,” Don began.

He coughed. “I wanted to say...”

He glanced toward Aaron, who gestured him on.

Don looked back to May. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I said to you, for trying to hurt you, for being _so angry._ I wish you hadn’t cheated, but I wish I had reacted better. I was so pissed, and then you were gone and I was even more pissed, and...”

Once, when May and Don had been friends, they had gone out to eat together. May, eternally broke, had only been able to afford a single styrofoam cup of lemonade, which the two of them had ruined immediately by poking a hole in its side with a straw. They had watched with mild interest as lemonade rushed from the cup like water from a faucet, spilling down the table onto the linoleum floor of the diner. Watching Don was like watching that cup all over again.

He was _still_ going.

“To be honest,” he mumbled, “I miss you. I miss you, and I don’t hate you anymore, and I can’t even blame you for what you did. Everything has gone to shit for me lately, and I’ve been terrible too, I’m just-”

“Don.”

He froze when his name came from her lips.

May rubbed a tear from her eye. “I’m sorry too.”

“Oh,” said Don. “Oh.”

Then they smiled. It wasn’t exactly the strong, tandem smile of best friends who could read each other's thoughts, who spent every waking second together, or wore matching outfits to turf wars, but it was _something._ A band-aid, maybe. Things could never return to right. There was too much hurt, too many wounds that were still healing. But at least they weren’t wrong, anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws confetti but with a confetti cannon*  
> Finally, that conflict resolved!  
> I would like to apologize for not being upfront with the secret, but the truth is I have to rework it, because my original idea was Very Dumb, and I came up with it in tenth grade when I wasn't as good at writing as I am now. Hopefully, the actual secret will make more sense, but I may leave it intentionally vague because I have this feeling that the Octo Expansion might give me an answer.


	38. In Which Lacey Is Reckless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this? An update maybe a week after the previous one instead of three months? What strange sorcery is afoot?  
> Well, there's an update. I'm shocked at how fast I've managed to get all this out.  
> As always, thank ReedRGale for the fact that this fanfiction ISN'T a complete mess.  
> And thank you all too, for sticking with me for so long.  
> I hope you enjoy!

It was over. It was  _ over. _

Five years he’d spent fixated on May had been bandaged, were healing. He was free. Don felt as though her were quivering on the walk back to Aaron’s house. Electric. He’d shock the next person to brush shoulders with him on the street.

“Well,” said Aaron, “that’s one plot thread tied up. What will you do now?”

“I- I don’t know.”

It felt as though there were no up or down, that Don was drifting directionless. It was over. 

_ Well, _ he thought, as Sandy’s face flashed in his mind.  _ Mostly over. _

Sandy, Terra, and Gravel. His old team, but without him. 

Oh.

“I miss my friends,” Don murmured. “I need to fix things.”

“Alright,” Aaron nodded. “Do you want me there?”

“I think I’ve got it, this time.”

“Well, I’m here if you need me.”

They parted ways.

Don let his feet carry him across Inkopolis. Hands shoved into his sweater pockets, he trotted through the snow. Half of him felt a kinship with the snow, and its untouched blankness. The other half was hot and light. Don was accelerating, ascending. But then, there was the taste of bile in his mouth, because-

Oh  _ fuck,  _ would they even want him back? He specifically remembered Gravel saying he hated him. His sister hadn’t protested when Don was evicted. Sandy had only helped him out of pity. Cruel betrayal, thought Don, clenching his fists. Or had he betrayed them?

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

He should turn back now. Return later, maybe, when the wounds of the past had dulled. He found himself at the door of their apartment but hadn’t knocked. Don could go back to Aaron. Maybe get his help. Work up the courage and-

“Don?”

Or not. Sandy stood frozen a few feet away carrying a bag of groceries.

“Oh, hello there,” Don said because he was an idiot. He wanted to run. He wanted to, but the memory of Aaron’s iron grip stopped him.  _ No running away, this time. _

“Is something wrong?” Sandy was saying, tone soft, “Are you okay? We haven’t seen you for months and I’ve been worried-”

“Sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry for everything. I was stupid, and hateful, and hurt and-”

The groceries tumbled to the floor.

Sandy wrapped two strong, dark arms around Don’s back.

“I missed you,” she breathed. “I’m happy you’re okay.”

Once, before Sandy had transitioned, but after she’d stopped going by her deadname, she and Don had gotten lost in the woods together. It was all a blur now, a haze of four year old memories, but Don remembered being separated from her. Lost and afraid, he had curled up in the roots of a large tree to sob. Sandy found him an hour later, and pulled him close. 

That hug was just like this one. Warm, comfortable, safe.

“I’m sorry,” Don echoed, as though it meant something. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

Sandy just smiled. “Welcome home.”

* * *

Inkopolis was covered in a milky, white substance which May had informed Lacey was snow. Lacey took a clump in her palm to watch it melt away, taking some of her ink with it.

“Just be careful it doesn’t get into your boots,” May said, “it’s hard to walk with melted feet.”

Lacey giggled. “I’d just have you carry me.”

She remembered, abruptly, the previous time May had carried her, trudging through shadows of a city which towered above her, alien. A threat, steeped in danger. In death, even.

Now, with May’s hand in her own, it just seemed... beautiful. All blanketed in white, the multi-colored advertisement screens casting rainbow light over Inkopolis Square. May’s eyes glistened in the light bath. It was starting to become, Lacey realized, a second home.

May was staring at her.

“What’re you thinking about?”

“You.” Lacey leaned over and kissed May’s cheek, just because she could.

Maybe one day, when Octo Valley had recovered enough, she could take May to see it. See the  _ real  _ Octo Valley- not just the zapfish operations but the people. The culture. The places they lived and not the war zones. Perhaps it could become May’s second home. With Lacey.

She smiled at the thought. She wanted to be with May forever, wherever.

They wandered to a cafe with large, glass windows. Flowers garnished its window boxes, like raindrops of color on a blank-snow canvas. Everything Lacey knew about flowers said they should die in winter, yet here they were, rainbows unfurling in white. Flourishing. May followed Lacey’s gaze.

“Oh,” she said, “Ink flowers. They’re genetically modified to grow in winter.”

“How does that work?”

May shrugged. “Don’t know. My friend Gill probably does, we could ask him.” She considered them for a moment, fingering the delicate petals with what appeared to be nostalgia. “My county specialized in them. I have no idea whether or not they still do.”

“You didn’t always live here?” Inquired Lacey, as the two strolled into the cafe. Lacey soaked in the warmth of its heaters.

“Nah,” May answered. “I used to live in Melani County. Sometimes, I miss it. It was a colorful place. That was sort of our thing. But...”

“But?”

“I’m glad I moved here. I got to meet you.”

Something sung within Lacey. A warm, fluttery feeling named Love. Lacey almost said: ‘I’m happy that I was impaled on those spikes because I got to meet you,’ but she thought better of it. 

It was true, though. Meeting May had changed  _ everything  _ for Lacey.

They sat down together at a table, slowed slightly by flirtatious giggling.

Lacey couldn’t wipe the grin off her face, and didn’t want to. She grasped May’s hand tight, as though she could press her love into May through touch alone.

“I grew up in the Octoling forces,” Lacey offered, “since it’s custom to be conscripted at a young age. We were almost on the verge of civil war, too, with the power crisis. I helped keep the peace when it got violent.”

“I wish we could do something about that,” May sighed, “something constructive.”

“Opening trade wouldn’t be a bad idea. We need zapfish.”

“Like that’ll ever happen,” May muttered bitterly, “Inklings feel too superior to even think about communication.”

“And the Octarians have been socialized to only see Inklings as bloodthirsty monsters.”

They groaned in tandem. After a while, May smiled.

“I used to think Octarians were subhuman. I’m so, so sorry for that. But meeting you changed me forever. For good. I think, without you, I would still have trouble feeling happy. Or maybe feeling at all.”

“I was terrified of you when I first got here.”

“You tried to kill me!” For some reason, May was laughing, as though near death by your future girlfriend was hilarious and not upsetting. “We were so stupid, weren’t we? What a pair!” 

May’s eyes gleamed. “You bring out the best in me, Lacey.”

Lacey froze, feeling lost. May’s smile was warm and fond, overflowing with love and it shook her to her core. It came as a shock, all of a sudden, how meaningful May had made her life. She wanted to tell May this but couldn’t form the words. It felt like she had known May forever even though it had only been half a year.

“I am the luckiest Octoling in the universe,” breathed Lacey. And she leaned over the table to kiss May. It wasn’t a quick peck, but it wasn’t passionate. It just was. A thousand years could have passed and Lacey wouldn’t have noticed. 

She wrapped her arms around May and pulled her tighter. She felt May’s hand find her face and reach beneath her hood. Lacey wished she didn’t have to wear the stupid thing. Wished she could remove the sunglasses and the trenchcoat and just be with May in the open. Damn the consequences. She wanted to go outside past the rooftop.

“Um,” coughed a waitress, “are you ready to order?”

The two tumbled apart to their separate chairs. Blushing (Lacey loved the way May’s cheeks flushed blue), May ordered something off the menu to which Lacey paid no attention. She was still thinking about the hood and sunglasses. About living in secret. About the division between their people.

Fuck it.

“I’ve figured it out, May.”

“Huh?”

“A way to change things.”

“What is it?”

“I’m going to get Inkopolis used to having an Octoling around in the open. Someone has to break the barrier.”

May’s eyes went wide. “Lacey-”

Lacey whipped off her sunglasses, revealing a pair of eyes not bridged by black. “I want us to be able to live openly, May. I want to be happy with you without having to hide. If this is what I have to do to achieve that goal, I’m willing to do it.”

“I want to live openly too, Lacey.” May’s voice shook. “But what if you get hurt? I can’t lose you. Not when I just found you.”

“It’s going to be alright,” Lacey soothed, trailing her fingers over May’s cheek, delighting in how May leaned into her palm. “I’m used to danger.” She reached for her scarf.

“Wait,” May cried, “shouldn’t we at least plan this first?”

But the scarf was already coming off. Lacey’s tentacles unfurled like a flower, spilling free from their constrictions to fall loosely about her face. Free and exposed, she grinned at May.

“See? I’m okay.”

The waitress, upon returning, dropped two steaming mugs of cocoa on the floor. Lacey tuned out her screams, and turned calmly to the waitress.

“Excuse me,” she said, “but I think that was our food you just dropped. Would you mind bringing out more please?”

The waitress fainted. May grabbed Lacey’s hand, dragging her outside.

“Fuck,” she muttered, “fuck shit fuck, damn it Lacey, shit-”

“May,” Lacey hushed, “it’s going to be alright. I promise. I will  _ never  _ leave you alone.”

“Oh Lacey,” May sobbed, pulling the Octoling into a hug, pressing her face into the curve of Lacey’s neck.

“Shh,” whispered Lacey, rubbing circles into May’s back with the hand that could feel, “I’m going to be okay. We’ll change everything. I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you all want to hear more about my process in writing this fanfiction, or just witness my inane ramblings about writing, my twitter is @the_flan_knight. I'd be happy to talk!


	39. In Which May and Lacey Share A Milkshake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, but I think I've made it to weekly updates. Or, just about. If all goes to plan, this story should be finished in a few weeks. I know I have said this a million times, but thank you so much for supporting me these past three years. Even after I couldn't buy and play Splatoon 2, your comments and kudos helped keep me interested in Splatoon and driving me to finish this fanfiction. I hope that I can give it the ending that both it and you all deserve.  
> Thank you also to ReedRGale, for keeping this story from being a mess.  
> Enjoy!

This was a terrible idea, May thought.

Lacey would get herself arrested or killed, and May was going to  _ lose _ her forever. Lacey’s arms were warm around her, her voice a comfort, but May couldn’t quell the intensifying fear in her heart, couldn’t remove the iron ball of dread in her stomach.

“What are you doing?” May whispered.

“Getting the world used to us,” Lacey said. “If we don’t do it, then who will?”

She had never seen Lacey so determined. The Octoling’s eyes burned like fire, her mouth curled into determination, fingers tight against May’s back. Inklings were staring.

May still remembered the first time she had met Lacey. The first words Lacey had ever said to her, so defeated, so out of character now:

_ “Kill me... I’m dead anyway.” _

That Lacey was gone now, smoothed away with time and love like a stone in a lake.

But maybe that was wrong, May thought, studying the determined set of Lacey’s shoulders. That drive had never left.

May shivered, feeling that drive would lead them to disaster.

May thought for a moment. “Synchronise with my ink color.”

Lacey raised an eyebrow.

“If you’ve synchronised with Inkling colors,” May continued, tugging at one of her cyan tentacles, “it might be harder to hurt you. It seems safer, like this. It’ll at least comfort me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Have you ever synchronised with anybody before?”

“The only color we Octarians use is pink.”

May’s smile was thin. “There’s a first time for everything, I guess.” She glanced downward, concentrating on their locked fingers. Lacey felt it when her hand liquified, grating against her own ink. Would they mix? Still, she matched May’s hand, watching the ink meld with her own.

At first, the opposing inks slid against each other, like oil and water, until slowly, they began to swirl together. The change was instantaneous- a cold feeling sliding up Lacey’s arm, then rushing further and further. Over her shoulders. Her face. Her chest and skin. All encompassing. Like being submerged in water without pain. Resonance vibrating over her skin. The edge of her own tentacle hung in her vision- bright, snowy cyan. 

She supposed it had worked. 

Lacey glanced at May, expecting to see that same cyan.

What she saw instead was Octarian pink, spreading over May’s tentacles like milk poured into tea, stretching over her skin like vines.

“I don’t think that worked right,” May remarked, staring at her own pinkish tentacle. “but I’ve never synchronised with an Octoling before. Maybe it's different.”

Lacey shivered. “That was amazing, but... now you’re a target too.” She frowned.

“I don’t care. If we do this, we do it together.” Once again, she took Lacey’s free hand in her own. “I’m scared,” she confessed, “I don’t think this will work. I’m afraid you’ll die. But,” her eyes narrowed, burning like comets, “I love you. And if we go down, we go down together. And since we’re choosing to fight, let's make certain we change something along the way.”

Clutching each other’s hands, the two made their way down the street. Without her sunglasses, the city seemed much brighter, the passage of time even more vivid. Snow piled in the streets was cleared away by trucks, while inklings rushing back and forth down the sidewalks did double takes.

It did not take long to realize that they were being followed.

Lacey was uncertain whether or not May had noticed, but fifty paces behind them strolled the same Inkling that had been fifty paces behind them three streets ago. She tightened her grip on May’s arm, glancing behind under the guise of whispering into May’s ear. 

Still there.

But now there were two. And they both looked familiar.

Lacey recognised their silhouettes. Remembered fighting them. 

She whispered to May:

“Why don’t we go into that ice cream shop?”

“But it’s snowing.”

“But I want to share a milkshake with you.”

“Alright,” giggled May, “fine.”

Abruptly, they swerved left, wandering into the brightly lit ice cream shop. At its mint-green countertop slumped a bored-looking inkling, pressing a dark-skinned cheek into a dark-skinned palm. They had colored their short tentacles a bright yellow, and Lacey couldn’t tell if it matched with or clashed with the decor.

“Hello,” droned the Inkling, motionless. “What do you want?”

“One chocolate milkshake please,” May said, “for two. With whipped cream.”

The Inkling glanced over the two of them, then sighed. For a moment, Lacey thought they would mock her, but instead they just groaned. “You come to an ice cream shop in winter and you don’t even buy straight ice cream? Barbarians.”

May snorted. “We can go.”

“No, no. We need cash. I’ll make your stupid milkshake.”

Had they even noticed Lacey was an Octoling, or did they just not care? As soon as May had paid, Lacey dragged her to a booth in the corner, sitting opposite her.

“We’re being followed,” she said. “Don’t look now, but there are two Inklings trailing us. Maybe more.”

“Oh shit,” said May, “really?” Her entire body tensed. “Why did we corner ourselves, then?”

Why indeed? “If we don’t talk to them on our own terms, we might be talking to them in prison instead.”

“What’s our goal?”

“Convince them to leave us alone.”

The glass door jingled. In walked the pair of Inklings. Ignoring the countertop, they strode directly to the booth, sliding in on each side so that May and Lacey were trapped. Lacey bit her lip, snarling.

The taller inkling removed her sunglasses. Scarred brown eyes pierced Lacey’s gaze.

“Cornering yourself here was pretty stupid.”

“So was revealing yourself.” Lacey grinned, all teeth.

The other Inkling, who Lacey distinctly remembered being decked by, growled, fists clenching. Lacey straightened in her seat, ready to return whatever punches he might throw.

“We’re here to talk,” he bit out instead, breathing deep.

“So are we.”

“Alright,” interrupted the server, wandering to their table, “I have your milkshake and- oh fuck, there’s more of you. Alright, what do you all want?”

“We’re here for them,” frowned the short one, “go away.”

“I was just asking what you wanted to order,” groaned the Inkling, “ _ gosh.” _

“I’d like a scoop of mint please,” murmured the tall one.

“ _ Thank you.” _

“Anthias? What would you like? I’ll pay.”

The short one- Anthias, Lacey assumed, folded his arms. “Apple pie flavor...”

The tall one paid. The moment the Inkling had shuffled back behind the counter, she began to speak.

“Listen up, kids. My name is Kepa. Anthias and I aren’t here to arrest you.”

“Could have fooled me,” muttered May.

“We’re here to protect you.”

Kepa glanced away, toward the counter. Lacey leaned forward, taking a big sip of milkshake.

“Let's be honest, you’ve made a lot of heads turn. A lot of Inklings have called in tips, called the police. Nobody knows what to do with you.”

“The hope is,” Lacey said, “as they learn more about me, they accept my presence.”

“And until then, someone needs to make sure you don’t get arrested.” Anthias muttered. “Kepa has a lot of sway. We can make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Why should we trust you?” Lacey asked.

“Because Kepa knew Tosix.”

Lacey blinked.

“Who?” asked May.

“An Octoling who defected to Inkopolis. She was executed for her crimes,” spat Kepa, meeting Lacey’s eyes. “I know you know who she is. Do you want to be the next Tosix?”

“I want to stay with May.”

“Then trust me,” her eyes hardened. “Trust that I will  _ never  _ let history repeat itself again. Tosix was my friend. We-”

She choked. Unable to finish her sentence.

“Listen,” she said instead, “there aren’t any official laws banning Octarians from Inkopolis. The only precedent for your arrest is a 100 year old war, and a recent strike on our HQ.”

Lacey swallowed. “You can’t prove I’m connected to that.”

“No,” said Kepa, “we can’t. And I’ll keep it that way. Let us help you.”

Lacey glanced at May. May shrugged, then nodded.

“Alright. But let's not discuss this in public.”

“Where, then?”

May thought for a moment.

“I know a guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws confetti*  
> Finally, the plot threads are clearing up! Everything is coming together now. In the next 2-3 chapters, this story will be over.


	40. In Which The World Falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to ReedRGale for beta-ing.  
> Here we are, the second to the second to last chapter in FAKADS. I can't believe we've made it this far. The end is in sight.  
> Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy!

The lights in the barracks dimmed further, and with no night vision goggles, these days Mallory often found himself shuffling down unused hallways, squinting to see. It was seemed likely that he’d be murdered in a hall like this, and not even the Commander would find him because nobody could fucking  _ see.  _ The desperate need for zapfish was growing every day. Soon the factories would lose power and shut down, and then they’d all be screwed.

For Mallory there was the constant worry the screens would go dark.

The blue sky which filtered in through the large windows in the barracks was the only beautiful thing in this whole place. His old general, dead now, name erased, had been in charge of these lights. Mallory had spent many a day wandering back and forth, checking that the lighting crews were on task, carrying messages, even disciplining them. Sleek and efficient, that was what he had been. As efficient as Octo Valley, as the kettles. Then Commander Kelp had happened, and Mallory had yet to stop being a mess.

Even now he could feel her hands. Calloused, and scarred. He had had sold out his general and stayed with Kelp out of fear. He had almost broken.

Then he had seen her face, half dead and half alive. The most feared fighter in the DJ’s inner circle, and she didn’t even have depth perception.

Now it was all different. All wrong. Mallory couldn’t tell whether he was supposed to fear her or pity her. He couldn’t get over the pain she had caused, never would, but now she had lost her monstrousness and become a person.

Mallory heard the echo of boots. Someone was rounding the corner. Bringing himself to a halt, he pressed against the wall. In the dim light he could just make out General Pikaia, followed by a small entourage of secretaries and electric workers. 

Why electric workers?

At once they ceased their marching. Mallory stiffened.

Pikaia turned. They locked eyes. Her goggles were piercing, as cruel as an Inkling. Was that why the soldiers wore them, he wondered? Not to receive orders and organization; the music did that, but to be as frightening as the enemy?

“You’re the secretary,” she said, “Mallory.”

Mallory swallowed. “I am.”

“The Commander’s little ghost.”

“I assure you,” Mallory said, “I’m tangible.”

Pikaia crossed her arms. “You’re like a shade, following her around. You have no power but to carry out her orders and do what she says. Don’t you miss the days when you ordered the screen workers around?”

Mallory shivered.

“Commander Kelp isn’t the only one I’ve researched, child.” Pikaia said. “I know all about you, now. She knows nothing about you but your name.”

“I don’t expect her to care for me,” Mallory argued, wondering why he was coming to Kelp’s defense.

“A true leader looks to serve her people. Kelp only looks to serve DJ Octavio.”

“And I serve Kelp.” It was his job.

“She controls you with fear.”

Did she, anymore?

“What do you want?” Mallory asked, finally.

“Tell Commander Kelp I’m calling an emergency meeting.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And Mallory?” Pikaia’s face was half in shadow, and half in light. “When everything goes to shit, Kelp will be the first to abandon you.”

Then she disappeared, entourage and all. Mallory slid to the floor right there, staring at the supermassive screens. Trying to process the conversation.

Of course Kelp would abandon him, he thought. There had never been any evidence to the contrary. It served no point. Unless-

She was trying to separate them. For some reason, Pikaia had decided that Mallory was  _ important  _ to the Commander. Less a toy and more a tool. He smirked, bitter. Just another move in the battle between them.

He may as well carry the news to the Commander.

* * *

_ Once upon a time there was a girl on a slab. Her right half dead, she lay waiting for the pain to spread to her left. Instead, there came a man who held her broken hand and told her there was another way. _

* * *

There were records, Commander Kelp knew, of the time before she was Commander. Records the DJ had locked away, hidden forever. They were to have been of no concern to anyone, just the certificates of a dead girl. Commander Kelp had not thought of them for ages, too focused on the rise to power, on DJ Octavio’s silhouette.

She had been a fool not to have burned them. 

Now, although Kelp had taken them from the archives, she was certain Pikaia had a copy. This had to be what the meeting was about. Pikaia would confront her with claims of treachery, and Kelp would direct the conversation around each allegation gracefully. A thousand strategies were brewing in her head. Nothing would push her from the top.

Nothing could kill her anymore. Not even Pikaia would push her down.

As she stomped down the hallway, Mallory only paces behind her, Kelp smirked.

She spared a moment to think of her young secretary, to note how he no longer trembled at her touch. He was, she reflected, the only person who had ever seen her uncovered. What did it mean, she wondered, that she had not scared him away?

Why was he still here?

Then they entered the meeting room and that thought was filed away. As always, Commander Kelp stood before the ovaline table, refusing to sit. Pikaia stood opposite her, the gaze palpable.

“What’s the strategy today?” Kelp teased, cocking her head.

“Oh? You haven’t already deduced it?”

“You really  _ have  _ grown a pair, haven’t you?”

“I have simply decided to stand.”

“I’ll admit,” Kelp remarked, as the rest of the generals filtered past her, “I’m impressed. You’re the first to question my authority directly in years.”

“Save your posturing for after you’ve lost, Commander.”

Kelp bared her teeth. “I never lose.”

Pikaia knew who she was.

This had to be kept in mind. The strategy was “proving” the records fake.

When the final general took her seat, Pikaia’s secretary shut the door.

“Well,” said Kelp, “it’s time. Tell me. What is it this time?”

“This.” said Pikaia. “My fellow generals. I’ve called this meeting to question the authority of our Commander Kelp.”

“How cute.”

“She claims to know the whereabouts of DJ Octavio, and yet has yet to retrieve him. All the while our precious resources continue to be wasted on the search, when they could be spent retrieving zapfish.”

Infantile. “The majority of our forces have returned to Inkopolis,” Kelp argued. “The few left in the field simply monitor him. After all, our DJ alone can choose when he wants to return home.”

“And yet,” Pikaia snapped, “our lights continue to dim.”

“You are the general in charge of stealing zapfish, Pikaia-”

“Clearly the forces granted to me by  _ you,  _ Commander, are inadequate.”

“Or perhaps you aren’t using them as efficiently as possible, general.”

Where was the blackmail? The accusations had to come any moment now. Pikaia wouldn’t oust her with incompetence.

“You sit waiting for a DJ who will never come back to return. We are  _ dying,  _ Commander.” This time, it was Pikaia who learned over the table. Pikaia who slammed her hands on the wood, who snarled like a hungry shark. Commander Kelp inhaled slowly, unable to hide the grin appearing on her face. This- now this was  _ interesting.  _

“You’re turning into me.” Kelp giggled.

“And you’re an incompetent child, worshipping the DJ who saved you. I know who you are-”

Here it came.

“And what you did. You don’t care about our people. You don’t care about yourself. You don’t care about anyone but DJ Octavio, and even he has abandoned us. Abandoned you.”

Kelp bit her lip so hard she drew blood. “That sounds like treason, Pikaia.”

“If anyone is treacherous, it’s-”

And then the lights went out completely.

* * *

_ She wrapped her dead half with a new identity, and followed the man around her old home as though for the first time.  _

_ “From now on, you have no name,” he said. “Your identity is the rank you bare.” _

_ No one ever learned who she had been. Or at least, that was what she thought. _

* * *

The flashing pink of the emergency lights was enough to set Mallory’s heart racing, nevermind the shaking of the barracks.

“The building is going to fall!” screamed one general, who may or may not have been Pikaia. “We’ve lost power!”

Someone kicked open the door, and then they spilled out of the meeting room. Streams of Octolings, half dressed or in full armor rushed down the hallways to evacuation points. Sliding against the wall, Mallory tried to avoid trampling. Where was the evacuation point up here? He’d forgotten, he’d forgotten-

A hand grabbed his wrist, dragging him down the hallway, right by the tall windows. Mallory’s heart nearly stopped as he stumbled.

The screens had gone down.

The sky was gone.

“Keep moving!” A voice, Commander Kelp’s. The hand gripping his wrist was scarred and calloused, rough against him.  “Come on, kid,” she growled, “you’re not dying now.”

They rushed down the corridor, footsteps lost in the echo of a thousand panicked feet. Pikaia was gone. So were the other generals. Mallory barely registered their sprint up the stairs to the roof of the barracks. There was the emergency jump pad. The rough hand dragged him through the line of waiting Octolings, shoving him on first.

“But-” he stuttered.

“Shut up!”

Then he was flying away. Wind rushed through his tentacles, pushing his robes back in a flutter behind him. He saw the landing platform, safe and sturdy, grow closer and closer in his vision. There were the generals, all escaped, standing in a cluster.

Mallory landed on his feet, stumbling forward to his knees. Commander Kelp landed a second after, and then General Pikaia. Despite the falling barracks, crashing down into the city below, she was the complete appearance of calm.

“The city below was evacuated,” Pikaia, staring at the carnage, voice barely audible over the crash, “as were the barracks. The loss of life will be minimal.”

How could she have evacuated in time, when she hadn’t known this would happen?

“This,” she growled, spurring into sudden motion, “is  _ proof.  _ Commander Kelp’s incompetence has led to this disaster.”

But how could she have evacuated the city in time? Mallory couldn’t wrap his head around it.  _ Minimal  _ loss of life? This was worldfall, right here. This was disaster.

Kelp’s response was immediate and aggressive.

“I was not in charge of the zapfish, general. This disaster falls to you.”

The generals watched the conflict with interest, likely waiting to discern and side with the victor.

“And yet- and yet- it was your  _ planning  _ which allowed such an oversight in energy consumption. You, who kept us all focused on the DJ. Octo Valley has gone without a real leader for six months because you refused to allow a promotion!”

“I lead us with an iron fist!”

Kelp was just barely screaming, a few fissures appearing on her stone facade.

“You kept the army unable to recover, and now we have stagnated! Generals!” Pikaia turned to address the crowd, “Commander Kelp has sabotaged our entire operation through sheer incompetence and lack of oversight. And I refuse to allow it any longer.”

Mallory barely noticed the shifting favor of the generals. He watched Pikaia and Kelp, on opposite sides of the platform. The scent of smoke from the crash was heavy in the air, the emergency lights just barely tracing their silhouettes in lavender.

Somehow, he decided, Pikaia had known about the impending crash. Somehow.

Half her face was in light and half in shadow, unreadable. But Mallory had seen this image before, barely an hour ago. Pikaia, walking down the hall with the electrical staff. Her few followers right there behind her. Why? Why take them with her?

Well, the answer was simple. As the general in charge of zapfish she would be in contact with them. But something was deeper here.

Why would Pikaia know about the electrical failure unless  _ she had ordered it? _

“Saboteur!” he cried, without realizing. Everyone turned to stare at him. Mallory swallowed.

“Your shadow speaks out of turn,” growled Pikaia.

“You sabotaged the barracks to incriminate Commander Kelp!” He couldn’t shut up. “You ordered the cessation of power-”

“Prove it.” Pikaia’s face was stiff.

“I saw you today,” he breathed, “with electric workers-”

“Need I remind you that it is my  _ job  _ to speak with those workers? You have no proof, little one.”

“I-”

“I thought you lead with an iron fist, Kelp. Yet your secretary speaks out of turn.” Pikaia turned to the generals. “You all have spent too long huddling in her shadow. Side with me, and we can get rid of her.”

It was too good of an offer to pass up, Mallory supposed. Commander Kelp was losing. The details didn’t matter. The generals were tired of Kelp. Here was their chance to be rid of her. And she knew it too, with the way her body tensed. The way she scowled with those piranha teeth, hunched forward.

Mallory flinched when her hand twisted around his wrist. Her grip was tight, a shackle.

“So this is it?” she snarled. “I lead us to greatness, and you betray me.”

“You betrayed  _ us  _ long before. T-”

Commander Kelp’s warning inkshot burst in Pikaia’s face, cutting her off.

“I’ll come back,” she snarled, like a rabid hound, “I’ll come back. I’ll bring back Agent 3 for execution. I’ll retrieve DJ Octavio. When he returns, you’ll remember why you feared me.”

“Well,” teased Pikaia, “we’re waiting.”

Mallory stumbled after Commander- after ex-Commander Kelp, half screaming. He tripped over his own feet, crashing to the platform floor. Kelp dragged him up by his tentacles, pulling him into the darkness of an opening in the wall. Down and down and down they went in the darkness, away from society and light and everything Mallory had ever known.

“Let me go-” he cried. “Let me-”

“Shut it!” Kelp bit, “You can’t go back to Octo Valley now. They’ll execute you because you worked for me.”

“Since when do you care? You hurt me.”

“I did.”

“You kept me loyal out of fear.”

“I did. But Pikaia will kill you. I won’t.”

“I don’t-”

_ I don’t want to go with you. I can’t stay. I hate you, you hurt me, I can’t get over the pain you caused. Do you care about me? Why? Why would you care when you’re hateful and hurt and ugly and awful? There is nothing good in you. I want to disappear. I want to disappear and you won’t let me. _

There was too much to say. Mallory settled for:

“Where are we going?”

“Inkopolis. To retrieve Agent 3 and DJ Octavio.”

“Why?” He could question her, now. She was not his superior any more.

“The generals will bow instantly to DJ Octavio, even if Pikaia ascends. He has the support of the entire army.”

“And Agent 3?”

Kelp didn’t answer.

“Why Agent 3?”

“Because,” she growled, finally, “I’m pissed.”

* * *

_ One day, the man was gone. The half-dead girl tried to pretend everything was the same but it wasn’t. Not after that half familiar girl had stolen him. _

_ It was time for revenge. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you go.  
> My twitter is @the_flan_knight if you wanna ask my about FAKADS or just say hi!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this far! Please review this because I would love to know how good it really is while I write the next chapter.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Windrose](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7098250) by [DetectiveRoboRyan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveRoboRyan/pseuds/DetectiveRoboRyan)




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